Of Mistletoe and Dung Bombs
by LobsterMobster95
Summary: It's Christmas and the Burrow, growth blooms in the wake of the great wizarding war. New life is on the horizon, and perhaps...unexpected love as well. Fred/Hermione, other couples as well.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone, I know I haven't written in a long time and I appologise for that. I've been having a lot of medical issues over the past year and that, in combination with school, has been keeping me pretty preoccupied. However, I have been working on this story off and on for a while and thought I'd go ahead and post it to see what you guys think.

Feel free to message me any ideas that you'd like to see in future chapters because I'm not entirely sure where I want this story to go just yet and I'd love your input.

I'd like to thank all of you for reading and thans-as always-to my sister who finaly kicked my butt into posting this. Hope this brings you into the holiday spirit a bit an you enjoy it enough to leave me a review (doesn't matter if it's short, just no flames please)

Well, here you go...

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><p>The sky above the Burrow was painted flush with the colors of early evening. The land around the magically enchanted home was lightly coated with the first snowfall of the season. All seemed calm and peaceful, as if the entire wizarding world was heaving a collective sigh of relief at the approaching Christmas holidays.<p>

Hermione Granger was no exception. She sat comfortably beneath a warm woolen blanket on the sofa in the Weasley's den; a worn copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ lay open on her lap. The gentle crackle of the fire below the hearth was like the sweet lament of an infant's lullaby.

This was the kind of holiday that Hermione loved. Although she did enjoy her fair share of adventure and danger; simplicity was always where she seemed to gravitate towards during times of rest.

And Christmas at the Burrow had become traditional to her in recent years. The packing and sorting of her selecting reading material put her in the holiday spirit better than mistletoe and minced pies put together. Books of both magical and muggle lineage, fiction and non-fiction, they all became customary 'Hermione Granger Christmas ornaments'. This year she had even corralled her copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters _in case her sense of adventure returned from holiday before the rest of her.

"Ah! It must be Christmas!" A jovial voice called out from the stairs.

Hermione turned her head and saw a tall and freckly red-head leaning against the banister, his sapphire eyes beaming over to her.

"It must be Christmas because there's a bookworm in my favorite seat."

"Happy Christmas Fred," She replied, returning his smile. "How are things at the shop?"

Fred made his way over to the sofa and swiftly lifted Hermione's legs from the cushions and sat down before letting them fall back across his lap.

"Brutal," He grunted, his head falling back in exasperation. "Bloody third years can't get enough of us, can they? Verity's been having a right time keeping the little gits from nicking dung bombs and pigmy puffs under their cloaks."

Hermione gave a small chuckle before a thought passed through her. "Wait, doesn't Verity work the register?"

Fred nodded.

"Then what's she doing running after third years?"

"It's called the 'Holiday Rush', love. This time of year, duty isn't restricted by exclusivity." Fred yawned and stretched his arms out behind his head.

Hermione couldn't help but notice just how wary the older boy looked. Behind his coy smiles and cocky demeanor, there were dark circles beneath his eyes and his ginger hair seemed even more astray than usual. He was obviously exhausted.

This was one of the only aspects of the holidays that Hermione found troubling. The twins always ran themselves ragged this time of year and she just hated seeing the pair without their normal sparkle of mischief. She often asked them why they did not simply take on more staff to help ease their burden. But they would always insist that they wanted to keep their business at a very personal level. And in truth, they'd only hired Verity out of absolute necessity and would have much preferred to hire one of their Hogwarts mates.

Hermione always admired Fred and George for that. Despite all their success they still hadn't lost sight of what they had set out to achieve when they'd begun dreaming up the joke shop years ago. They'd envisioned a semi-respectable business that could put a smile on a troll's face if they could fit one through the door.

"_If only they would take on some more help."_ Hermione thought. Quicker than a fast feet charm an idea came to her, causing her to grin yet again.

"Hey Fred," She said casually.

"Hmm?" He answered, his eyes closed and his breathing long and deep.

"What would you say if I could find you someone to volunteer some work to help you through the season?"

His blue eyes flickered open only long enough to roll in her direction. "C'mon Mione, we've already told you we don't want a bunch of lazy sods poking their noses where they don't belong."

She returned his look with a challenging one of her own. "Oh, so now I'm a lazy sod, am I? Odd, a moment ago I could have sworn it was 'bookworm'."

Fred's eyes immediately shot open and found hers. "You don't mean…?"

"Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

He shrugged. "Guess I always thought you hated our pranks." Fred winked at her and flashed a little smirk. "In fact, I do believe you gave me detention on more than one occasion."

Hermione blushed slightly and looked back down to the pages of her book. "All I ever said was that they weren't appropriate for a school setting. However, I always found your magic to be quite impressive."

His smirk evolved into a wide toothy grin as he watched the blushing girl in front of him attempted to hide the color in her cheeks behind her bushy hair. He loved seeing her flustered, being the control freak that she was, instances like these were few and far between. So it always made Fred feel somewhat honored to witness such a sigh, even more so when he was the one to cause it in the first place.

"So," He said, causing her to look back up.

"The great Hermione Granger is lowering herself to the title of 'shop-keep' all for the charity of a couple of gits, eh? Think you'll survive the first rush?"

Fred couldn't help but laugh at how quickly her air of confidence returned to meet his challenge.

"Please, by the end of the holidays you'll be begging on your knees for me to stay." She said matter-of-factly.

"Ha, you're on Granger. You'll start bright and early Monday morning. Welcome to Weasly's Wizard Wheezes."

Hermione took his outstretched hand and shook to their agreement, feeling a slight twinge of anxiety befall her at the twinkle of trouble in Fred's eye.

The remainder of the evening passed by remarkably quite by Burrow standards as Ron, Harry, and Ginny had all accompanied George to Diagon Alley for the afternoon. Arthur had been delayed at the Ministry and Molly had been hard at work trying to charm off the ink that the twins had 'spilt' on the year's Christmas photo.

This left Hermione and Fred to keep each other entertained, or rather, this left Fred to attempt to entertain himself at Hermione's expense. However, this proved to be a much more difficult task for Fred than it had been in years prior.

Ever since the war had ended Fred and Hermione had struck up a rather unexpected friendship. She claimed it was based upon their advanced understandings of magical arts, while Fred said it was because she no longer had to go gallivanting across Britain and could now see the gorgeous hunk of wizard in front of her. Whatever the reason, the fact remained that the pair found themselves in each other's company on numerously more occasions than they had while at Hogwarts.

So it was with great skill and practice that Hermione was able to continue reading wile Fred absent-mindedly twirled a piece of her hair between his fingers while occasionally flicking his wand to make it change color.

"You know," Fred said lazily. Hermione barely bothered to retract her gaze from the book in her lap to look at him. "This used to be much more fun when it got you in a tiff." He finished, letting the strand of hair slip between his calloused fingers as it changed from a bright shade of teal back to its natural brown.

She laughed slightly, "Shame you're losing your touch then."

Fred opened his mouth t retort but before he could form any words there was a loud crack from the kitchen, followed by several raised voices.

"Sounds like our times up, love, Till Monday." He said with a wink before gently slipping out from underneath her legs and heading for the staircase.

As Hermione watched him go she couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. As their meetings had become more frequent, she'd found that they had become more enjoyable. Even in situations like that afternoon when very little was said and all they really did was spend time in each other's company.

Her thoughts were broken when Harry and Ron stepped through the threshold into the sitting room.

"Finished it again, have you?" Said Ron, gesturing to _Hogwarts: A History_ laying open to the last page. "That makes what, two hundred?"

Hermione gave a playful scowl, flipping the book closed and stretching her stiff arms above her head.

"How was the Alley?' She asked, ignoring Ron's last comment.

"Same as ever," Harry chimed in, brushing snowflakes from his messy hair. "We ran into Neville and Luna in the Leaky Caldron though. She's getting to be a right sight, big enough for twins I'd wager."

Hermione smiled. Not long after the Battle of Hogwarts, Neville and Luna were married at Shell Cottage as per Fleur's request. Evidently she had taken a liking to Luna's eccentricities during her brief stay with the after being rescued from Malfoy Manor. And within a few months of the ceremony, Luna announced that she was expecting. Those present for the reveal had had a right time waking Neville from the floor.

"Oh, how wonderful," Hermione said. Her voice was a light at the prospect of new life in the wizarding world after so much death and destruction.

"Yeah," Ron piped in, "didn't know Neville had it in him."

"Oi," A voice called out from the kitchen before another ginger head popped through the threshold. "Anyone seen my less-than-better half?"

George was carrying a load of about a half dozen boxes, each one a different size and color. One of which, Hermione observed, seemed to be nervously twitching in George's arms.

"Upstairs," Hermione said, giving George a slightly reproachful look as she eyed the restless container. But he only replied with a quick wide-toothed grin—identical to that of his brother—before bounding up the stairs to his and Fred's old bedroom. Hermione looked questioningly back and Harry and Ron.

"Don't look at me," Ron said, raising his arms in defense. "Harry was supposed to be on guard duty when we passed by the magical creature shop. I had to go to Madame Malkin's with Ginny to get a Christmas gift for mum."

Harry gave a nervous shift and quickly cleared his throat. "He's not exactly easy to watch over, you know. I have an easier time keeping track of Teddy, and he's learning how to change color now, isn't he."

Ron shrugged before heading back into the kitchen for a fresh minced pie. As soon as he was out of earshot, Harry walked over to Hermione and kneeled down beside the sofa so he could speak to her without being overheard.

"I didn't want to tell Ron just yet, but I made a detour when George went into the creature shop."

From a pocket of his winter cloak, Harry retrieved a small satin box with a silver ribbon tied around it.

Hermione let out a small gasp of excitement and felt her eyes begin to tear up.

"Oh Harry," She whispered, trying to keep her volume under control so only he would be able to hear her. "Ginny will be so surprised; I can't believe you're finally going to ask her."

Harry was beaming. Hermione could see a lifetime's worth of emotions all surging through her friend's body at once. The love he had felt for Ginny for years was smiling back at her, and it did her heart good to see the pair of them both still alive to love each other after the war. If anyone deserved love and happiness after all the darkness, it was Harry.

"When are you going to do it?" Hermione continued to keep her voice down as she took occasional glances toward the kitchen.

"Christmas morning," He said, "After all the other gifts. I figure if Ron's going to murder me I might as well open my gifts first." Harry gave a little laugh that proved to be less convincing than he had hoped.

Hermione reached out a hand to touch his shoulder comfortingly. "He'll be happy too Harry, I promise. Who would be better for his little sister than his best mate?" She said, "Besides, you're going to be real brothers now."

At this Harry smiled and nodded at her in thanks before tucking the little package back under his cloak before heading up to the attic bedroom to safely store it away until Christmas the following week.

A small sigh escaped from Hermione after Harry had departed. So much had changed, and so much was still changing. Barely nine months had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts and already the wizarding world was beginning to build itself back up. Only now, it was becoming a world that was strange and unfamiliar to Hermione. Not bad, per say, but different.

Marriage and children were no longer considered with a sober tone. Now, such matter were swiftly coming back into reality and the force of it all was enough to leave Hermione breathless.

"Pst!"

The sharp sound jerked Hermione out of her thoughts so suddenly that she immediately leapt from the sofa, _Hogwarts: A History_ tumbling to the floor beside her feet. With her wand now drawn and outstretched, she turned towards the source of the noise.

"Bloody hell Granger, you're not about to curse a bloke in his own mother's house are you?" A cheeky voice said from the stairway.

Hermione exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding before lowering her wand and glaring at the boy in front of her.

"For all I knew _Mr. Weasley_," She added as much sarcastic emphasis to the name as she could manage. "You could have been Fenrir Greyback, broken out of Azkaban."

"True, but I'm not, am I?" Fred said, examining himself quickly.

She smirked. "No, I suppose not. What is it that you wanted anyway?"

"Oh!" Fred called out, thumping himself on the forehead. "I almost forgot. Follow me, Georgie and I have something we want to show you."

Hermione looked at him with speculation, not entirely confident that whatever it was he wanted to show her wouldn't eat, nick, electrocute, or set her on fire. Regardless, she chose to follow the older Weasley boy up the multiple flights of stairs to the twins' old room.

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><p>Thanks for reading and I'll try to update again very soon. But please let me know ofany requests for events in future chapters, or just general input, you know I love to hear from you all. Untill next time,<p>

Peace&Love


	2. Chapter 2

Welcome back everyone, thanks so much to all of you who read chapter one. I'd like to thank wolf-whispers, _smc1214_, Weasley-Is-Our-King26, and undertheimpression for all leaving me such kind reviews, it's thanks to you lot that this got updated so quickly.

I also wanted to say again to any of you reading who might have some suggestions for scenes you might like to see incorporated into future chapters, please leave me a review and I'll see if I can work it it. I really am just making this story up as I go along (hopefully it's not too dreadfully obvious).

Also, there was some confusion as to when exactly this story was taking place. I'd like to apologise for that,I had every intention of including a bit of a summary in chapter one's author's note, but when it came time to do so, the whole concept completely eluded me. So basically just look at this story as a post Deathly Hallows fic where Fred survived the explosion at the Battle of Hogwarts and Ron and Hermione are not together but remain close friends. Everything else about the story should be pretty compliant with the books. But if anyone else gets confused, don't hesitate to let me know and I'll do my best to clear it up.

Alright, well, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter, thanks again to all of you who are reading this.

Happy Christmas,

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><p>Upon her arrival trailing Fred, Hermione caught wind of the peculiarly sweet scent of chamomile and cinnamon emulating from beneath the door of the twins' bedroom.<p>

As Fred opened the door, the slightly spicy smell filled Hermione's nostrils, causing a tiny sneeze to escape. Fred smiled and held his hand out to her.

"Sorry love, bit strong I'm afraid."

"Y-you think?" She coughed slightly.

He laughed and grabbed her wrist to pull her into the room after him. She complied, but only because the smell was overpowering her better judgment and making her rather loopy.

George sat cross-legged on the floor with a caldron levitating a few inches in front of him. A soft, golden mist was rising from the caldron and what looked like small goldfish were jumping up above the surface of the potion.

Hermione gasped.

"Felix Felicis! Are you two mad, do you have any idea of how dangerous that brew is?"

"Told you she'd get mad," George said, not even bothering to look up from the potion.

"Hold on Mione, you don't think we'd be so careless do you? Trust that we know what we're doing."

But Hermione remained skeptical. The twins didn't have the best history when it came to handling complex magic. The memory of the dual beards they'd sprouted in the wake of their attempted trickery of the age line around the Goblet of Fire came to mind.

Fred must have seen her hesitation because he took a step closer and focused his gaze firmly on her.

We've done everything properly, I swear. It's been brewing for six months just like it's supposed to. And you see those little jumpers?" He motioned to the golden drops of potion flipping in and out of the mixture. "Every book we've read says that they're a sign of a successful potion."

"What in Merlin's beard are you planning on doing with it?"

A smile spread across Fred's face as well as George's.

"We're making a new kind of Skiving Snackbox." George said as he gave a quick flick of his wand to stir the contents of the caldron.

"Fair Fortune Fudge," Fred said with obvious pride. "Give yourself the best day imaginable for only six galleons."

"You do realize that Felix Felicis is illegal in most settings," She replied "That would include the academic realm to which most of your customers belong."

"Tsk tsk Granger, you of all people should understand the value of homework. We've checked the books and if we dilute the potion to a restrained state, it won't be illegal." George said.

"You're sure?"

"Positive," Fred and George said together.

"Well, I must say, that is rather…brilliant." Hermione wasn't sure what to say. Not only had they produced a highly advanced potion, but they'd done the proper research in regards to selling it through a product. In short, she was impressed.

"Ha! I knew you'd like it." Fred clapped her on the back. "And since you're our newest employee, you are going to help with its production."

"I thought I was just going to be working the front of the shop." She said.

"Oh, you are." Said George "But the job doesn't end there. There's the bookwork, restocking, cleaning all the rubbish that customers leave behind, trust me Granger, that's where the _real_ work is."

"_Bullocks," _Hermione thought.

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><p>On the morning of December twenty-third, Hermione woke with a start when the loud crack of aparation jerked her roughly back to consciousness.<p>

"Rise and shine poppet, it's Monday morning and the shop is open for business."

Hermione grumbled and pulled the duvet up over her head. But not before muttering a few choice words to the twins intruding in her room (Molly had let her have Percy's to herself for the holidays).

"What was that, love?" George said, cupping a hand to his good ear.

"Didn't quite catch that," Fred finished.

"Ruddy pumpkin heads," Hermione threw off her covers and all but threw the boys into the hall so she could get dressed.

Ten minutes later, a very groggy and irritated Hermione emerged from the room, looking less than willing to comply with anyone's demands.

"Right then!" Fred said clapping his hands together with much too much enthusiasm for Hermione's taste.

Before she could respond, the twins each looped an arm through one of hers and she felt herself become immersed in the sensation of being squeezed through a garden hose. But as quickly as it came however, it was gone. And Weasley's Wizard Wheezes stood like a colorful beacon in Diagon Alley.

"Well then Miss Granger, shall we begin our little wager?" Fred whispered in her ear. His warm breath against her cold skin was enough to send shivers down her spine. But in light of his challenge she quickly brushed the feelings away and she locked her eyes confidently to his.

"Absolutely," She said, all trace of tiredness now gone from her body.

The trio walked together towards the shop, Verity unlocking the front door for them as they approached. The young witch looked entirely too run down to be working. Her golden hair was dreadfully mused and the dark bags beneath her usually glowing eyes told of at least seven days of non-stop labor. It immediately reminded Hermione of why she had egged Fred into this little wager in the first place.

She knew that Fred and George, along with Verity could really use a lift from their holiday burdens. The twins were just more apt to disguising their fatigue then poor Verity happened to be.

"Hello Hermione, it's nice to see you again, welcome to hell." She said so softly that Hermione almost didn't catch the resonance of her last statement.

Hermione attempted to give her a sympathetic smile in return. "How are you Verity?" She asked kindly.

The older witch gave a short humor-less snort at the question. "I'm afraid I'm in a right bit of a state at the moment." She said. "I'm swiftly on my way to becoming a recluse who frightens away children with a garden of Blast-Ended Skrewts."

Hermione laughed. Although she could still hear a worrisome note of seriousness in the woman's voice, it was good to see that her sense of humor had not been entirely lost to overeager, sugar-infused children and their parents. But she imagined doing so would be quite a task when under the employment of two such infamous clowns.

"Well then," George said suddenly clapping his hands together. "There'll be time for chit-chat later ladies, but right now we have a bet to win, right Gred?"

"Absolutely right Forge. Miss Granger, we'd like you to begin by taking a quick inventory before we open to our adoring public.

Hermione jumped into action, rolling up her sleeves, she took the clipboard that George was offering to her.

"By the end of the day, you lot won't know how you ever got on without me." She smirked.

And with that, Hermione disappeared into the backroom. The clipboard went zooming along behind her, a quill posed at the top of the page, ready to dictate Hermione's observations.

However, when Hermione disappeared behind the violet curtain she immediately felt her stomach rise into her throat at the sight of the storeroom.

It was clearly enchanted to be larger on the inside than the outside. There were crates and boxes stacked in every direction, each labeled with their respective contents. Skiving Snackboxes, Canary Creams, Extendable Ears, Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, and Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-bangs were just a few of the plethora of products decorating every inch of the backroom.

But a witch who'd faced the dark lord himself would not be deterred by simple gags, no matter how massively numerous their quantity. So, despite her apprehension, Hermione dove headfirst into the massive amount of inventory.

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><p>The cataloging went by surprisingly fast, and within no time, the shop was ready to open its doors.<p>

Hermione took a brief moment to admire the interior of the store. Every nook and cranny was decked with Christmas decor and George had cast a charm that made the whole establishment smell of ginger bread. Stockings were hung by the fireplace and bewitched to display the names of and provide free samples to any customers using the floo network.

There were also dozens of little Santa Clauses flying on red and green broomsticks, singing carols as they flew about. Sprigs of mistletoe vanished and reappeared at various locations, offering discounts to patrons trapped beneath it. And at the center of it all, there was a massive Christmas tree in the middle of the shop. Its lights sparkled like real stars and the garland continuously moved about from limb to limb.

It was all simply gorgeous. It took Hermione's breath away and reminded her of all the Christmases she'd spent as a muggle growing up. How those holidays had seemed so magical, when in truth, she'd had no idea what she was missing.

Christmas was always the time of year that Hermione was taken aback by the sheer majesty of the wizarding world. Everything just seemed to glow with love and reassurance, providing the perfect setting for celebrating life, both old and new. It was enough to warm even the bitterest of creatures' hearts.

"It's fantastic isn't it?"

Hermione turned toward the voice and saw Verity, her demeanor slightly more alert but still rather sodden. But she was smiling all the same, which encouraged Hermione to return the gesture before replying.

"Yes, it really is. I never can quite get over just how incredible magic can be." She said, looking back up at the tree just as one of the little Santas crashed into the angel on the top. The angel looked ready to breathe fire, but the Santa Clause looked as though he was enjoying himself entirely too much.

Hermione chuckled at the sight.

"They certainly know their way around charms." Verity said.

"Surprisingly enough,"

"Why did you agree to work here?" Verity asked suddenly. "Not that I'm not bloody thrilled you're here, I'm just curious. There aren't many who would knowingly put themselves out on a limb for those two." She gestured to the front of the shop where Fred and Gorge were attempting to entice a group of fifth year girls to come have a look at their Wonder Witch products (on sale for the next twelve minutes only ladies!).

Hermione stopped; she hadn't thought it was all that odd to volunteer her services. After all, everyone deserves a break, especially while running a business this time of year. She said so to Verity, who shrugged.

"I suppose, but it's odd. They've never agreed to take anyone on before, even just a mate for the season. I was just surprised to hear that you were coming." She said.

"Wait, they haven't even hired their friends?" Hermione said. "I thought that was the only way they would hire someone."

Verity shook her head. "It's come up a few times in the past, but as of late, you're the only one to make the cut." She said.

What, how could that be possible? Fred had said that they didn't want anybody sticking their noses into their business; surely they didn't think their mates would do something like that. So what reasons would they have to keep themselves so short-staffed?

"Speaking strictly girl-to-girl," Verity continued. "I think Fred must fancy you."

Hermione nearly burst from laughter. "Y-you're not serious, are you? Fred and I are just friends, he couldn't possibly."

"I'm just voicing what I've been seeing, and what I've been seeing is one very love-sick puppy running back and forth all over the shop waiting for his mummy to come and scratch his belly." She said. "Ever since he let on that you were coming he's been pulling out all the stops to make sure that the shop is worthy of your approval. It's been quite annoying, really."

Fred, Fred Weasley, trying to impress Hermione Granger? Inconceivable, they were mates, that's all. In fact, they'd only just begun keeping each other company recently. It couldn't be possible for Fred to have other feelings for her, could it?

"I-I don't know what to say." Said Hermione, as she nervously twiddled a strand of her hair and fidgeted where she stood.

Verity seemed to think the younger girl's discomfort was amusing and gave her a bright smile. "Just give it a think, okay? If I'm right—and I usually am when it comes to these sorts of matters—Fred really cares about you. You may not see it because you're too close, but take it from someone on the outside looking in."

And with that, Verity returned to her post at the register as the group of fifth years willingly made their way inside and headed for the exclusively female end of the shop.

Hermione, on the other hand, stayed involuntarily rooted to her spot. The thought that Fred could have feelings for her that went beyond friendship was absolutely ludicrous in her eyes. What could a talented, charismatic, and handsome wizard like Fred Weasley possibly see in her? She was the bookworm who Madame Pince had allowed to lock up the library because she was always present far past closing. She was the girl whose femininity was often overlooked in favor of her logistic skills. She was the perpetual sister who could never be anything more. Wasn't she?

"_No," _She thought quickly. Verity was just having a laugh at her expense, that's all. Just a friendly joke among new coworkers, Fred's feelings for her were strictly platonic, just like they'd always been.

Hermione quickly shook her head to rid her mind of the troublesome thoughts before making her way over to another group of students that were nervously navigating their way between shelves of curious looking merchandise.

"Hello there," Hermione said sweetly to a rather particularly skittish looking boy. "Welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, may I help you find something?"

The boy gave her a look that suggested that she was some kind of Acromantula before he swiftly ducked away beneath a low table and scurried off to the opposite end of the shop.

Hermione watched incredulously as the boy retreated away from her, wondering what on earth she could have possibly done wrong.

"Ha-ha! A fair first try Miss Granger, but many of our customers don't particularly like to be reminded where they're shopping."

Hermione turned to meet Fred's smiling eyes as he looked at her with obvious glee.

She crossed her arms at him and gave a rather stern look—only with a fraction of real severity incorporated. "And what, pray tell, does that mean?" She asked him.

"It means," He said, moving closer to her so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders. "That a number of our clientele do not shop here with full…parental consent, you might say." He turned her around to look at a number of nervous looking children who were thumbing through a collection of Ton-Tongue Toffees while simultaneously eyeing the front door with worried expressions.

Hermione gave him a stern look. "And you actually let them _buy_ products? They are deliberately disobeying somebody, how could you consent to such a thing?" She asked rather hotly.

"If they've already gone through the trouble of getting here, we figure the little buggars deserve something. Besides,their money's still good."

"You're incredible, you know that?"

"The feeling's mutual." Fred said with a smile before giving her a quick wink and heading off to tend to the customers.

Hermione felt heat unexpectedly rise to her cheeks as she watched him go. The thought of Verity's words still fresh in her memory.

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><p>Well, there you have it. Please please please let me know what you thought of it. I didn't work on it for nearly as long as I did the first chapter (mind you, I was in school so it technically it took me about three months XD) but I'm hoping I was able to do you all proud and keep you entertained for a spell.<p>

I'll try very hard to get another chapter up before Christmas, but bear in mind reviews do have the tendency to make me write a touch faster.

Anyway, Happy Christmas all.

Peace&Love


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again everyone, first of all, I'd like to give a quick thanks to those of you who reviewed chapter two: **wheres-tutti, Naomi S****.**** Goldson,**** smc1214 **and **AbbyLove** . Thank you all so much for your kind words of encouragement, they really keep me going.

Also, really quickly I want to go ahead and give the disclaimer that I should have given two chapters ago, I do not own any affiliations with the Harry Potter franchise, I'm olny using them for my own recreational purposes.

Thanks again to those of you who've been reading and I hope you are enjoying reading this fic as much as I've been enjoying writing it. This is my first attempt at Harry Potter and so far it's been a blast.

Hope you all like chapter three, and don't be shy about leaving me a review letting me know what you think. I appreciate your input always.

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><p>The remainder of the day passed by much too slowly for Hermione. The chaos only increased as more and more customers seemed to flock to the shop. It seemed like just when one person left with their arms laden with merchandise, two more eager and empty-handed souls took their place. It was astounding just how many people could occupy Weasley's Wizard Wheezes at one time. The shop was full to bursting and, truth be told, so was Hermione.<p>

She'd been on her feet for hours chasing customers, restocking shelves, maintaining current potion brews, and cleaning up messes that were constantly being made. It was exhausting to say the least.

As the business day neared its close, the crowed showed no signs of slowing. Witches and wizards of all ages continued to inundate the shop, plucking items off the shelves at astounding rates.

Five minutes before the store was set to close, Hermione slipped away from sweeping up a pile of particularly putrid Pigmy Puff droppings and made her way over to the register counter where Verity's hands were flying so fast Hermione thought she must be using some sort of charm. At this point, Hermione wished that she had thought of such a thing roughly six hours ago.

"How long does this go on?" Hermione whispered with exasperation over Verity's shoulder.

She paused her work for only a second to look up at the large cuckoo clock that hung on the wall. "Four minutes, thirty-six seconds and counting," She said with a smile as she handed an old wizard his change and a bag of trick wands.

"How are we supposed to get all these people out of here by then?" Hermione looked around again at the hoard that occupied every open inch of space.

"That's the one thing we don't have to worry about." Verity said, continuing to keep her eyes trained forward on the next customer in line. "Thankfully, your boyfriend's got that covered."

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat. "Wha-what did you say?" She choked out.

Verity quickly turned her head to flash Hermione a cheeky smile. "Just proving a point, no need to fret,"

"And what point is that?" Hermione asked hastily, taking a step closer to the older girl.

"Miss Granger!" Two identical voices called out from the second floor.

Hermione gave a slightly pleading look to Verity, who only smiled again in return and turned back to her customers.

"Better answer that deary, wouldn't want you to miss the show."

Another question posed itself on Hermione's lips but quickly vanished as Verity shooed her away from the register.

"_She's out of her bloody mind."_ Hermione thought as she headed toward Fred and George's call and made her way up the large oak staircase to the balcony level.

Fred and George stood together in their trademark Green and Purple suits. Both were leaning against the railing to watch the bedlam that was taking place below.

Remarkably, the pair was able to discern her footfall from the massive amount of noise parading through the shop. They each looked up and sent her a quick grin before walking over to meet her.

"Thought you'd want a front-row seat to the evening's main event," Fred said to her, reaching out and taking her hand to pull her gently over to the banister.

The contact of his hand made Hermione's heart flutter and her cheeks begin to flush. The reaction took her completely by surprise. She couldn't understand why Fred's touch was making her feel so flustered. Just last week her legs had been stretched out across his lap while they sat together on the sofa, and she hadn't so much as skipped a word of_ Hogwarts: A History_. So why in the name of Merlin's pants was she reacting so strangely to him now?

What Verity had said to her must be the reason. It was the only logical explanation. Verity's absurd suggestion that Fred fancied her must have gotten stuck in her subconscious and was now tricking her mind into thinking that any contact with Fred was romantically significant, when in reality, it wasn't.

Hermione felt her heartbeat begin to steady in the wake of such logical evidence. She followed Fred's pull and let herself be led to the edge of the balcony so she was looking down at the customers.

"Ready for the show?" George asked her.

"What show?" She was beginning to get tired of these games.

"Just watch," Fred continued as he pointed out above the crowd. "And try not to blink too much."

Hermione wanted to continue asking questions but Fred silenced her as he brought a finger to his lips. She ruefully consented and instead quietly observed the shop's happenings without really knowing what she should be looking at.

Then all at once, it happened. No sooner had the clock struck six before a strange wind began to blow through the shop. It was so strong that Hermione had to close her eyes as the force was making them water. She felt a reassuring hand slide onto her shoulder; she didn't need to have her eyes open in order to know to whom it belonged.

It was odd, despite the harsh gusting of the wind; all of the products on the shelves remained stationary. There were no pieces of merchandise flying about the shop. And, surprisingly, there were no shouts or exclamations of fear emulating from the patrons below.

But as quickly as it had come, the wind vanished, just as Hermione had begun to reopen her eyes. When she did so fully, Hermione saw that all but a dozen or so of the hundreds of customers were now absent. The remainder were all currently in a line at the register with bags of merchandise clasped in their hands.

Before Hermione could open her mouth to inquire, the twins' voices boomed out over the shop, sounding elevated and jovial.

"Lasses and blokes, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is now closed. Please see the pretty witch at the counter for your final purchases. And don't forget to come back tomorrow for more of your funny-bone favorites."

As the voices died down, Hermione rounded on the twins themselves.

"What the bloody hell was that?" She asked, not sure whether to be angry or impressed with the pair of them.

"That," Said George triumphantly, "Was our own personal brand of Christmas miracle."

"What does that mean?" She asked with irritation sprouting in her voice. She was far too tired to decipher a load of rubbish at the moment.

"It's an enchantment we put on the place 'round the holidays." Fred said calmly, obviously seeing that Hermione was beginning to get rather cross. "At closing time, that wind blows through and gives all the customers who aren't set on buying something, a gentle nudge out the exit."

Astounding. They had perfected the magic so completely that the charm had only taken a number of seconds to manifest and perform the intended task. Though the outcome was relatively simple, Hermione could clearly see the amount of talent it would take to perform such a precise bit of magic.

When she communicated as much to the boys, they simply laughed good-naturedly.

"Well, we can't right tell the lot to bugger off, now can we? Besides, we need time at the end of the day for production and development."

"_Production? Oh, bloody hell." _Hermione though to herself.

Fred and George must have seen the terrified look on her face, for they each took hold of one of her arms and led her back down the stairs and toward the entrance.

"Don't fret Granger. Since this is your first day we'll let you off with Verity tonight. George said, opening the front door for her.

"But come tomorrow night, your arse is ours." Fred finished with a sly wink.

Hermione swallowed hard and felt heat rise in her cheeks yet again. She quickly ducked her head down and passed out of the door, muttering a quick "night then," as she left.

But as she hurried away, Hermione became aware of the sound of footsteps that were quickly gaining on her. She stopped and swiftly got into position to aparate back to the Burrow. She feared that Fred had seen her blush and was now attempting to confront her.

Hermione felt her stomach plummet at the thought. But just as she was about to make her escape, she heard a voice call out to her.

"Hermione, wait!"

It was only Verity. Hermione heaved a sigh of relief and felt the tension in her body relax slightly.

"Verity," She breathed, trying to keep the respite out of her voice. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to hold true.

"Expecting someone else?" Verity asked coyly.

"N-no, of course not," Hermione silently cursed herself for stuttering.

Verity didn't look convinced. However, she shrugged it off—much to Hermione's delight—and instead held out a hand to Hermione.

Hermione was momentarily puzzled at the gesture, but when she looked down; she saw what looked like a miniature brick wrapped in gold foil sitting delicately in the witch's hand.

"What's this?" She asked, hesitantly reaching out her own hand.

"Fred wanted me to give this to you." She said. "As payment for today's work,"

Hermione's hand snapped back just as it was hovering above Verity's. She had retracted for two reasons: because, at the mention that the item was from Fred alone, as well as the fact that Verity said it was to be considered her _payment_.

"I can't accept this." Hermione said. "I told Fred I was volunteering my services, I don't want any restitution."

"Oh for goodness sake," Verity said with impatience before roughly grabbing Hermione's hand and placing the little object in her palm.

"You are bloody proud, aren't you? Anyway, it's not really proper payment anyway." Verity said.

"It's the first go at a new product; Fred called it Fair Fortune Fudge. He wants you to pilot the trial run, no rush though. Stuff's not scheduled to hit the shelves until after Boxing Day.

Hermione was taken aback; she hadn't been expecting Fred and George would have a go at making the Fudge until at least the New Year. And she couldn't help but feel a little put out that the gift was merely another piece of the wager, rather than an actual gift from Fred.

What was wrong with her? Suddenly she was disappointed that Fred Weasley wasn't sending her gifts? Verity's teasing must be having a larger impact on her subconscious than she'd thought.

"Oh, thank you." Hermione said, wrapping her fingers around the little sweet.

Verity nodded kindly before turning away and heading in the direction of the Leaky Caldron.

"By the way," She added, turning back quickly so she could look Hermione in the eye. "What I said about Fred fancying you…"

Hermione felt her body stiffen.

"I reckon you must fancy him as well." And with a quick chuckle, Verity disaperated.

Now Hermione understood why Fred and George must have hired her, she was just as metal as them.

When Hermione arrived back at the Burrow that evening she couldn't remember ever being more exhausted in her life. Molly was fretting about, reprimanding the absent Fred and George for working her too hard and swearing they were going to get a stern talking-to the next time they came home.

But Hermione heard almost none of it. The only matter that held her concern was the effort it would take to get from the sitting room to her bedroom, and more specifically, her bed.

However, Molly refused to send her to bed on an empty stomach and insisted that she sit down and tuck in with the rest of the family. Hermione agreed only after her stomach protested loudly to remind her that she had worked through lunch to restock the supply of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.

After supper, she found herself glad that she had given in to the request after all, as Molly's cooking always proved to be as delectable as Hermione had ever tasted. However, a full stomach did little to improve her state of fatigue.

Within moments of finishing her meal, Hermione began to feel her eyelids droop dangerously low and her breathing begin to even out. Seeing this, Ginny offered to take her up to her room, for which Hermione was undeniably grateful.

As the two girls walked up the stairs to the second floor, Ginny leaned over to whisper in Hermione's ear.

"Have you noticed Harry acting a bit off lately?" She asked quietly so the sound wouldn't carry to the occupants downstairs.

Hermione felt her blood run cold. Leave it to the boy-who-lived to muddle his way through hiding a proposal from his girlfriend.

"Don't be daft." Hermione said hurriedly. "He's probably just fretting over what Ron's gone and done for his Christmas present this year." She hoped that Ginny would accept this, at least for another two days.

However, Hermione could see the concern present in Ginny's eyes. She always worried so much about Harry, especially since the war had ended. She had expressed to Hermione that she often woke in the middle of the night to the sound of Harry's sobs. He still suffered from horrible nightmares as well as guilt over those who had died fighting in the war.

Hermione could only imagine how painful it must be for Ginny to see the man she loves struggling with such a tremendous amount of inner turmoil. It was understandable that she would notice the slight shift in Harry's demeanor. In truth, even Hermione had noticed how distant and nervous he'd been acting lately.

"Don't worry Gin, I'm sure Harry's fine. You know him, he always is." Hermione said, giving her friend the warmest smile she could.

This seemed to reassure Ginny slightly as she returned the smile with a thankful one of her own.

"I'm sure you're right Mione, you always are." Ginny said with a little chuckle. "So how did it go at the shop today? Fred and George must have run you ragged, eh?"

Hermione laughed. "It was absolutely barmy. I doubt Harry had a harder time in the Triwizard Tournament."

Ginny nodded. "Sounds about right, just being in there when it's packed gives me a headache, can't imagine working there."

As the pair approached the door to Percy's old room, Ginny slipped from her place beside Hermione so she could give her a quick hug. Hermione wrapped her arms around the younger girl and gave a reassuring squeeze to her shoulders.

"He'll be fine Gin, I promise." Hermione said soothingly.

"I know." She answered back, attempting to choke back a sob. "I just don't want to lose him again. I love him so much."

"He feels the same way, trust me. He loves you too much to ever leave you behind Ginny."

After a few moments, Ginny was able to calm herself down and retract from Hermione's embrace.

"I'm sorry about that." She said, looking up at her. "But thank you."

Hermione could only smile at her. She seemed so young, despite only being a year younger. And she was so in love that it made Hermione want to wrap her arms around her and tell her what it was Harry was planning. But she couldn't. It would mean all the more when Harry explained himself on Christmas morning.

So, with one final exchange of "good nights", Hermione retreated into the warm confines of her room. And as she laid her head down on the feather pillow, she fell into a peaceful sleep alongside thoughts of true love and happiness.

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><p>Well, I hope this chapter was to your liking. I've already got the first bit of chapter four in the works so I may be able to squeak it in before Christmas.<p>

Let me know what you all think, untill next time.

Peace&Love


	4. Chapter 4

Hi everyone, firstly, thanks to those of you who reviewed for chapter three: **GoldenSnitch123** , **AbbyLove,** and **smc1214** you guys are all great. Thanks as always too to all of you for reading this fic, I hope you've all been enjoying it so far.

I had a right time trying to work out the details of this particular chapter, I'm more accustomed to writing darker, more troubled things so direct romance has been an interesting challenge for me. But I must say, I have been enjoying it immensly.

Anything regarding the Harry Potter franchise does not belong to me.

Please enjoy chapter four and please leave me a review letting me know what you think of it.

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><p>On the morning of Christmas Eve Hermione woke to the sight of a dreadful blizzard pounding the hills of Ottery St. Catchpole. The wintery scene could easily have been mistaken for early evening rather than morning, as the snow was doing a fine job of blocking the sun's rays.<p>

Hermione grudgingly pulled off her covers, for she knew that it was only a matter of time before the twins arrived to shuttle her off to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Despite the early hour, Hermione could already hear Molly's hustle and bustle in the kitchen below. And the faint smell of bangers and eggs was beginning to creep into her room.

Ignoring the scent, Hermione made her way to the loo to get cleaned up for another day of hard work.

Just as she had her hand on the knob Hermione heard a familiar crack and two cheery voices appear in the room. She looked up to see Fred and George standing with their backs turned to her and facing the bed that she had just vacated. For a moment, the twins looked surprised and a little put-out that their target was not in her predicted position.

Hermione smirked slightly before effectively slamming the bathroom door shut loudly behind her. She couldn't help but laugh as she heard a startled "Blimey" and "Bloody hell" called out.

No more than an hour later, Hermione was back at the shop, clipboard levitating obediently behind her as she listed the contents of the backroom.

How could the inventory change so drastically overnight? Some amounts had doubled or even tripled since yesterday while others were now virtually nonexistent.

"How's it coming, love?" A voice asked from the direction of the violet curtain.

Hermione turned and saw Fred's face poking through the drape. Hermione felt herself smile at him without realizing.

"Almost through _Mr. Weasley_," She said cheekily, turning back and making a note of a dozen cases of Punching Telescopes.

"Very good _Miss Granger_," He replied in a voice eerily reminiscent of Percy. "And brace yourself; Christmas Eve tends to make the customers a wee bit barmy."

Hermione immediately lost her playful air. "Brilliant," She said sarcastically.

Fred chuckled. "Don't fret about it too much; we're expecting the snow to thin the load a bit. Although, you _did_ say that you could handle it." His eyes squinted in slim defiance.

"I can, and I will." She shot back hotly.

Fred gave a loud bark of laughter at her quick retort. But just as he was turning away, Hermione saw Fred begin to stumble against the wall as the color rapidly drained from his face.

Hermione could have sworn she felt her heart stop. She quickly flew across the room to his side, absent mindedly swatting the clipboard out of her path and into an opposing wall.

"Fred!" She said as she took his arm 'round her shoulders.

He didn't respond but Hermione felt his weight shift onto her shoulders as the life continued to drain from his features. She quickly led him to a chair before kneeling down in front of him.

"Fred," She said again, placing a hand to his pale forehead. "Can you hear me?"

Once again he failed to verbally respond but Hermione watched as he gently nodded his head.

"Just-just hold on a moment alright? I'm going to run and get George." Hermione stood to head for the curtain. But before she could make a move she felt Fred's cold hand shoot out and ensnare her wrist in a vice-grip.

"No," Fred managed to choke out; his voice was hoarse with obvious pain. "Please,"

He was begging her to stay, and just the sight of him in such a vulnerable state was bringing tears to Hermione's eyes. She knelt back down with both of her hands now wrapped comfortingly around Fred's.

"I'm here," She whispered, trying to keep the fear from her voice. "I won't leave you."

And so Hermione waited while Fred rode out whatever strange pain had befallen him. She watched as cold sweat rolled down his face and his eyes squinted shut from the agony. It all felt like an eternity, while in reality the episode only lasted a few minutes.

When Fred's pain began to falter Hermione saw the flush return to his features. It was enough to bring a fresh wave of tears to her eyes, and this time she didn't bother to try and hide them.

As the tears cascaded down Hermione's cheeks Fred turned so that he was looking directly at her. He gave her a weak smile before sliding his hand out from between hers and raising it to her cheek to wipe away some of the moisture.

"Please don't cry, love." He said, his voice still shallow and raspy. "It's just the old war wound from when old Rookwood grazed me with that curse, no reason to fret."

"No reason to fret!" Hermione exclaimed, her face twisted with both incredulity and woe. "I thought you were dying you great prat. And all you can say is 'no reason to fret?'"

Fred gave a small chuckle, his hand remaining on her cheek where he continued to gently caress away her tears.

"I'm sorry," He whispered. "The bit of curse that nicked me still acts up every now and again. Usually I can slip away before anyone notices. Although, I have to say, the company was marginally better this go-around." He finished with a wink.

Hermione managed to choke out a small laugh that was more reminiscent of a sob. She couldn't even imagine the thought of losing Fred.

On the night of the Battle of Hogwarts, Augustus Rookwood shot a curse that partialy rebounded off the wall that Fred had been standing in front of. The ricocheted curse grazed Fred's leg as it flew by. However, no other damage appeared to have been done and the wall safely collapsed in the opposite direction.

Hermione had been aware of Fred's injury, but after the physical wound had been healed, she had assumed that that was the end of it. And all that would remain would be a slight limp that Fred suffered occasionally.

How could she be so daft? Of course the curse would have residual effects. Almost every known curse has side effects, and it would only be commonsense to presume that the curses flying through Hogwarts that night would be less than friendly.

"Why haven't you said anything?" She asked.

"What, and get you lot all worked up over nothing? Not bloody likely." Fred replied, his strength apparently returning.

"Clearly it isn't 'nothing' if it's been acting up for nine months. You ought to have been looked over properly at St. Mungo's."

Fred sighed and slipped his hand away from Hermione's cheek so he could run it through his ginger hair.

"Hermione please, I don't need a load of blokes poking and prodding at me just to tell me I'm a nutter who has no idea what curse he got landed with."

Hermione looked at him sadly. She knew as well as he did that there was a one in a million chance of one of the healers at St. Mungo's recognizing the curse just by the characteristics that Fred could describe. Hermione could see the anguish that lay behind his eyes.

"I'm so sorry Fred." Hermione said softly.

Fred looked up at her, and for a moment the pair of them remained still, their gazes locked together in a warm embrace. They could see safety and comfort in each other's eyes, and neither wanted to let it go.

After what felt like a lifetime, Hermione became aware that Fred was slowly closing the distance between them. Hermione's heart began to beat wildly and she could feel the heat radiating off her face. However, she felt herself leaning forward to meet him. Their eyes remained trained straight ahead as the gap separating them gradually got smaller and smaller. Soon their lips were only a whisper apart; Hermione could feel Fred's warm breath against her mouth.

But before the breach of space between them was filled properly, a loud crash from beyond the violet curtain caused Hermione and Fred to jump away from each other with haste.

Before Hermione had a chance to speak, Fred was out of his chair, hastily making an exit from the backroom without so much as a word in her direction. Hermione was left kneeling in front of the now vacant chair, her mind swimming with the thought of what just happened.

Ten minutes later Hermione emerged from the backroom, a slightly cracked clipboard in hand. As she looked about she saw Verity reassembling an apparently toppled Pigmy Puff cage, no doubt the source of the commotion. George was standing by the front door, absentmindedly watching the clock, waiting until it was time to open the doors. However, there was no Fred standing by his side waiting to greet the masses of adoring patrons.

Hermione heaved a great sigh before walking over to assist Verity, who looked up as she heard Hermione approach.

"Morning," Verity said with a smile. "Can you believe these ruddy little wankers?" She said, motioning to the wall of Pigmy Puffs behind her. "They're always causing trouble, just a load of—what's the matter with you, then?" She asked, apparently noticing the still dazed look on Hermione's face.

Hermione shook her head to clear away the unwanted thoughts that were buzzing in her head like Cornish Pixies. She looked down at Verity sitting on the floor, wand in one hand and the faulty cage in the other. The older girl's eyes were looking up at her expectantly.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Hermione asked.

"What's gone and got you acting all odd?" Verity asked again.

Hermione did her best to repress her blush as her mind flew back to the feeling of Fred's breath tickling her skin, the mere centimeters that had separated their lips.

No! She couldn't let herself get all tizzied up over nothing.

"I'm fine." Hermione said.

But Verity didn't look convinced. Fortunately for Hermione however, before Verity could accost her any further, the cuckoo clock burst open, revealing two cartoon figurines of Fred and George. Simultaneously, the doors of the shop opened with a bang and a flurry of last-minute shoppers flooded in.

For the next few hours Hermione remained so busy that the thought of what had transpired between her and Fred was pushed to the back of her mind. The shop seemed even busier than the day before, how on earth that was possible, Hermione did not know. It amazed her even more that all the people present that day had had to brave a snowstorm to get there.

Around noon the crowd thinned a bit as the weather continued to worsen. So Hermione took the opportunity to search for Fred. But it seemed as though he had vanished, Hermione combed through aisle after aisle and still the only twin to be found in the shop was George. And she dare not go to Verity, Hermione could already see the look on her face were she to inquire after the whereabouts of Fed.

However, just as Hermione was considering giving in and going to alphabetize the Skiving Snackboxes she felt a large hand tap her on her shoulder. She turned to see George looking at her worriedly.

"Hermione, can I ask a favor?" George said seriously.

Hermione's concern grew. "Yes, of course."

"Can I get you to have a look at Fred? He's been up in the flat all morning and he's been acting rather put-off. I tried talking to him myself but it's no good. He trusts you though; maybe he'd tell you what's bothering him."

Hermione could have cried again. George had no idea that she was the one who had caused him such distress. She had seen the way his injury effected him, she was the one who'd come within an inch of snogging him afterword. What kind of friend was she?

But George was asking her to be a friend to his brother now. Hermione wanted desperately to help Fred but she was terrified of making matters worse. She wasn't even entirely sure what part of the incident had upset him. Her heart ached heavily in her chest, telling her that it was the thought of having almost kissed her that had pushed Fred away. Regardless, Hermione had to fix this; she wanted to keep her friendship with Fred more than anything.

Hermione nodded to George's request and he pointed her in the direction of a wooden door that was hidden in plain sight between two large cupboards of WonderWitch products. Hermione had to force herself not to linger by the musky scent that was emanating from the love potions.

She opened the door and saw a flight of stairs leading up to the flat above the shop. And Hermione silently cursed herself for being too dense to make out that this was where Fred had gone.

As she slowly climbed, Hermione felt her nerves became more edgy and her pulse quicken. The sensations were only worsened as she neared the landing and heard a voice call out.

"George please, I'm not in the mood, alright?" Hermione heard Fred say.

She didn't respond but instead continued to climb towards his voice. But just as she was reaching the top, she heard footsteps emerging from a little room off the kitchen.

"Honestly, if it's that bad I'll come down and help but really I-" Fred stopped short when he saw it was Hermione standing on the steps.

"H-hey," She said quietly. As she looked at him she could tell he was obviously surprised at seeing her, but she couldn't tell whether he was also upset about it. However, his face was calm with no signs of anger, for which she was thankful.

"Hi," He replied.

Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment. She couldn't understand why he was making her so nervous. They'd been through so much, how could something like a kiss that hadn't even happened; create such a wall between them?

"Do you mind if I come in?" She asked finally, though she did not look him in the eye.

Fred stepped aside and motioned to a sitting area just beyond them. As he turned to lead the way, Hermione silently took a deep breath before following in an attempt to gather her sense of reason and logic before diving in head-first.

"I'm sorry about what happened." Hermione said as she sat down on the sofa opposite Fred. She still wasn't able to meet his eyes.

Fred sighed. "You don't have anything to be sorry for Mione. If anything, _I _should be the one apologizing. I wasn't myself and I almost took advantage of you."

She glanced up to see Fred looking intently back at her.

"Hermione," He continued, moving to the seat beside her. "I want you to know that I care about you, and I would never do anything to hurt you. What happed in the backroom…I…we…we can just pretend it never happened if you want."

Is that what she wanted? Did she want to just forget the whole incident ever occurred and go back to the friendship that they had had, or did she want to explore the possibility of something more?

The way she felt when they were together was different than how she felt around anyone else. She felt like she was home when she was with him, like she was safe. The friendship that they had was one that she valued more and more with each passing day and she feared the thought of losing it.

But ever since Verity had put the thought into her head, Hermione had been mulling over the possibility of a deeper relationship with Fred. He was charming, intelligent, witty, and he brought out a side of her that very few had ever seen. In many ways, he was all that she was not.

Hermione felt as though she was being pulled in two different directions at once, with her heart on one end and her head at the other.

For a moment the two just sat together on the sofa, no words spoken, just silent possibilities that floated back and forth between them.

But their thoughts were broken when a loud knock came from the door to the shop. Fred sighed loudly and let his head fall back in exasperation.

"I reckon that'll be George come to tell me to pluck up and get over myself. One day we'll be able to have a full conversation again, love, I promise." Fred gave her a warm smile before standing from his place on the sofa. And as he walked passed, Fred bent down and gently kissed the top of Hermione's head before disappearing down the stairs.

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><p>Well, I hope that you enjoyed chapter four, please leave me a review and let me know what you think. I really enjoy hearing what you guys have to say and I appreciate your input.<p>

I'm not sure how much time I'll have to work on another chapter before Christmas, but if I don't update before it probably wont be too long after the holiday for chapter five to be posted. Thanks again to all of you readers, you really make writing a fun and rewarding experience.

Happy Christmas

Peace&Love


	5. Chapter 5

Hi again everyone. I'm really sorry about dissapearing for so long but as soon as school started up it got really had to find time to write. Also, I was fighting a very debilitating case of writer's block with this particuar fic and it took a lot longer to get over it than I would have liked. However, I've already begun writing into the next chapter and I know for sure where it's going. And I'll be on spring break after next week so I'll actually have time to write it.

I'd also like to dedicate this chapter to TeddyRuxpin who was kindly forced by my older sister ClInIcAlLyInSaNeChIcK to read and review this fic. Thanks so much Teddy, I feel much better knowing I'm not butchering British speech too badly (even if my spellcheck is undeniably American and doesn't know how to spell 'Bollocks'). You're awsome Teddy =)

And to any readers out there who are looking for another good fic to dive into (especially if you are fans of the Kingdom Hearts franchise) check out the works by TeddyRuxpin and my older sister ClInIcAlLyInSaNeChIcK. Together they make a literary beast and I'm always envious of the stuff that they put out together.

Once again, I want to apologise for the terrible delay. And a big thanks to all of you who've reviewed, alerted, favorited, or just plain read this fic. It means a lot to me and I want you all to know that I appreciate it greatly.

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><p>Hermione sighed deeply as she watched Verity usher a group of young girls out the door, their hands laden with Wonder Witch products.<p>

It was just before six o'clock and the shop was empty for the first time since opening. To Hermione's great astonishment, the frigid wake of the day's blizzard had done little to deter Fred and George's loyal clientele. The same eager-faced children and mischievous groups of students continued to trudge their way through the Alley, scarves tied round their necks and hats pulled snugly over their ears.

However, the admirable show of customer devotion left Hermione to surf the impeded waves of retail bedlam while simultaneously doing battle with her intrusive thoughts surrounding Fred. Ever since he had left her alone in the flat she could hardly focus enough to walk and breathe at the same time.

One minute she would be restocking shelves, and the next she would find her mind wondering to thoughts of Fred's arms encircling her in a warm embrace. Needless to say, there had been a persistent blush painting Hermione's cheeks for the majority of the afternoon.

How on earth had this happened? Within all logical reasoning, this situation was inconceivable at best. There were undoubtedly very few people who were so completely different than one another. So why—sweet Merlin why—was this so bloody difficult?

Hermione's head dropped unceremoniously to the counter beside the register as an exasperating groan levitated up from her throat.

A small chuckle permeated the air and Hermione lifted her head just enough to let one eye search for the source, though there was little doubt over who was having a laugh at her expense. And just as she suspected, Verity was standing beside the now locked front door, the same jovial smile adorning her lips.

The older witch made her way over to the counter until she was directly in front of Hermione.

"Well, now that the last of those little blighters are on their merry way, I think I'll be heading home." Verity said.

"Brilliant," Hermione all but gasped as the relief washed over her. As she rose from her seat however, Verity put a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry darling," She said without the slightest hint of remorse. "But I'm afraid you went and sold your soul yesterday evening. The boys are expecting your company in the back while they work on production."

"_Damn."_ Hermione felt her heart sink and become lodged in her throat all at once. How could she forget that Fred and George had laid claim to her "arse" the previous day? And now she'd gone and got herself all in a flutter because she'd come within an inch of snogging Fred. _"A right Christmas Eve this is turning out to be."_

Meanwhile, Verity had retrieved her traveling cloak from the hook behind the register and was now leaning casually on the wall beside the large fireplace across the shop. Her smile had slackened and she was now watching Hermione with curiosity.

"What's wrong?" Verity asked. "I knew you'd be a touch put-off but you look as though I've just sent you to the Dementors."

Hermione shook her head. "I think I'd prefer that it were Dementors."

Verity frowned. "What happened, did a first year use a Skiving Snackbox on you, or something? It happens to everyone Hermione; you can't work here and not expect it. But you can't let that sca—"

"I almost kissed Fred."

A bright twinkle appeared in Verity's now wide eyes. She crossed the floor of the shop in two strides and swiftly grabbed hold of both Hermione's hands. In a hushed, but equally fervent voice she whispered: "Oh I knew you felt the same way about him, I just knew it!"

For an instant Hermione lost her ability to speak. The energy radiating off of her coworker was siphoning away her sense of coherency. After a few moments however, she felt herself regain the capability to form words. "But I _don't _know how I feel about him. It all just happened at once."

An impatient hand waved in front of Hermione's face in dismissal. "Pish posh, details are just details. The point is is that the notion is there." Verity gave Hermione's cheek a quick pat before releasing her entirely.

"Wish I could stay and watch the fun but I'm meeting Oliver at the Hog's Head for a pint." In a flash Verity was back beside the fire, her hand dipping into the jug of floo powder that sat on the mantle.

Hermione couldn't help but give in to curiosity at this statement; after all, Verity had done more than her fair share of prying over the last few days.

"Who, may I ask, is Oliver?"

Verity only shrugged her shoulders without the slightest hint of embarrassment at the question. "Oliver Wood, could have sworn you knew him. Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team before Harry took over, wasn't it? Watched him play with Puddlemere United a couple months ago in Sussex."

And with that, Verity stepped into the flames, tossed down her powder, and vanished with a burst of green light. Hermione now found herself undeniably alone and dreading what awaited her beyond the violet curtain.

But before she could attempt an escape, George's magically magnified voice boomed through the main room.

"Miss Granger, there are two very lonely blokes back here who would appreciate a pretty witch who could lend a wand, if one happens to be available."

Hermione heaved a final sigh and added a few creative curse words for good measure before she slunk through the violet curtain and made her way to the production office at the back of the storeroom. Hermione had never visited the room, though Verity had told here where it was earlier that afternoon.

The door itself was hidden behind a pile of faulty products and soiled flasks. It was not surprising to see that the wood of the door was slightly charred around the edges and bore what looked suspiciously like claw marks. There was a large W painted on the door which had been bewitched to sing a list of product ingredients that the shop was currently low in. Hermione couldn't help but smile as the wood sang out: "We need Eye of Newt and Boomslang Skin. Oi, leg it mate, where've you been?"

She had barely even raised her fist to knock before the door swung open and she was bombarded with the familiar scent of chamomile and cinnamon. The air within the room was infused with a golden haze and a single breath left Hermione feeling slightly lightheaded.

Looking around, Hermione quickly spotted the twins each sitting behind their own cherry wood desk. A large pewter caldron sat simmering between them, its golden mist wafting slowly over its rim. The little droplets of potion could still be seen jumping gracefully in and out of the brew.

No sooner had Hermione entered than the weathered door let out a loud creak, accompanied by a: "Bring back some Leech Juice, not an excuse." before closing firmly behind her.

At the sound, both Fred and George looked up from their work to give her warm smiles. She quickly returned the gesture, attempting to look as casual as she could. Although, she did find that her eyes lingered rather long as they passed over Fred.

"Welcome to the inner-sanctum Miss Granger." Fred said, his smile morphing into a proud smirk. "You stand where few wizards, and even fewer witches, have ever stood before you. This is where our brilliantly devious minds can work their _magic_, pun absolutely intended."

Hermione felt herself relax slightly as a burst of pure laughter erupted from her lips. "So, in a sense, it's a slightly larger version of your old room at the Burrow?"

Fred, now sitting with his feet propped up on his desk and his hands resting behind his head, let out a loud snort at Hermione's rejoinder.

"Oi George, she's got us pegged a right sight closer than we thought, eh?"

George chuckled as he rose from his seat to give Hermione a large clap on the back. "I suppose she does." He said. "Perhaps it's just as well, we can't have just any lass poking round back here."

Hermione turned so she could look George in the eye. "And for what purpose are my services required, pray tell?" A smirk worthy of the Weasley freckles adorned her face.

George ruffled her hair before returning to his desk to grab a piece of parchment. "I'm afraid that we are not as adapt at organization as our dear mother. We've come to discover that over time, a certain amount of merchandise has not made it out to the shelves.

"Your job, little witch, is to find said products and confirm that they are still capable of performing their designed functions. We have a list of where in the shop each product was last accounted for. All you need to do is trace them to their current locations." George said, as if it were the simplest task in the world.

Hermione, on the other hand, was not convinced.

"How am I to do that? Those products could be anywhere, assuming of course they haven't already been filched."

"It's like I said Hermione," Fred interjected, rising from his desk and joining his brother beside his. "You know us, probably better then we know ourselves, when you get right down to it. If anyone can follow in our footsteps, it's you."

A slight tinge of pink rose to her cheeks at the compliment.

"Alright, I'll do it."

"Brilliant!" George said, clapping his hands together, the parchment staying magically suspended in the air. Fred took the opportunity to snatch the form and hand it to Hermione.

"Here," He said, taking a step forward.

Hermione could have sworn she heard a trace of nervousness in his voice. But she was quick to push the thought from her mind as she accepted the bit of parchment. However, after the form was in her hand Fred did not back away. Instead he took yet another step closer so that they were within a foot of each other.

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as Fred bent his head down towards hers. He wouldn't kiss her, would he? Not now, not in front of George. Or was that exactly what he was planning? After all, he wasn't famous for his vast capacity for subtlety.

But to her relief, Fred's lips instead hovered over her right ear.

"Be careful 'Mione." Fred whispered softly. The heat from his breath caused Hermione to shiver. "Some of those products have been missing for quite a while. It's hard to say what kind of shape they're in now."

As Fred leaned away, Hermione could see the ghost of a mile playing on his lips. As well as a faint tinge of pink across his cheeks. Fred caught her gaze and his smile widened. He gave her a quick wink and gently flicked her nose before turning and returning to his desk.

Hermione was frozen in place. That brief moment had left her feeling completely disoriented, yet again. All the years that Hermione had known the Weasleys, the twins had always shown little discomfort when it came to the invasion of the space of others. They enjoyed having a good laugh when they managed to get someone flustered and uncomfortable. But Hermione had been known for being able to simply brush them off when they attempted such antics on her. She wasn't some twittering first year for Merlin's sake.

"Well then," George said suddenly, forcibly knocking Hermione out of her daze. "Now that that's all settled, Freddie and I have a date with some order forms."

George gave her another good-natured pat on the shoulder before trudging back to his own desk and pulling a large stack of paper toward himself.

Hermione did her best to shake the tedious thoughts from her head before clearing her throat and turning to exit the little room.

"Be sure to give us a yell if you run into any trouble 'Mione."

Hermione didn't dare turn around to respond to Fred. So instead she simply waved her hand in quick acknowledgment before swiftly escaping through the door.

Her head was swimming. She could still feel his warm breath ghosting across her skin. He had been so close, if she had only moved forward just a little...No! It was thoughts like that that had gotten her into this mess in the first place. She loved Fred just as she loved the rest of the Weasleys, they were her family.

A high-pitched voice made Hermione jump as suddenly the door to the production office began to sing yet another tune.

"If it's love you seek, you need not beg, just run out and nick more Ashwinder Egg."

"Oh shut it." Hermione said begrudgingly, taking a moment to deliver a quick kick to the door before walking away.

With her foot now slightly sore, Hermione looked down at the first item on the list. A day's supply of Patented Daydream Charms had been unaccounted for since the first of the month. They had last been stocked amongst the inventory between the Wonder Witch brand love potions and the Punching Telescopes.

Hermione sighed. With organization like that it's a wonder that more charms haven' gone missing. There was no mistaking that Fred and George were indeed Ron's brothers.

It took Hermione a number of minutes to locate the proper shelf in the back room that housed both the love potions and the telescopes. But when she did so she found that there was indeed a space that lay vacant between the two products.

The shelf was quite a ways out of reach so, looking around, Hermione caught sight of a little step stool sitting obediently in the corner. After assessing its stability and positioning it properly Hermione climbed atop the wooden stool. However, she still had to crane her neck upward in order to see the occupants of the desired shelf. But because of its height and depth Hermione could not see what lay behind the first row of products.

Hermione glanced ruefully down at the undersized stool beneath her feet. Of course the twins wouldn't need anything taller. After all, they were already the longest and lankiest of all the Weasley brothers. Needless to say the inner workings of their shop held little sympathy for the vertically challenged.

Hermione rose to the tips of her feet and reached an arm up to feel her way to the back of the shelf, hoping perhaps that the charms would be revealed to have simply been haphazardly shoved out of sight. The sooner her job was done, the sooner she could return to the Burrow and put this whole confusing mess behind her.

As she continued to reach further back Hermione was disappointed to have her hand be met only with open air. Frustrated, she pushed herself even higher onto her toes and stretched her arm as far as she could.

Triumph washed over her as she felt the tips of her fingers connect with something solid. However, triumph quickly turned to confusion as Hermione realized that whatever she was touching felt curiously rough and warm, certainly not the description of any Weasley's Wizard Wheezes product she was familiar with.

Hermione felt herself jump as the thing beneath her fingers gave an undeniable shudder. Her hand instinctively retracted away from the movement, upsetting a few bottles of love potion in the process.

Just then, a single Cornish pixie emerged from the cavity Hermione's arm had just vacated. The little creature looked irritable at having been disturbed and it glared intently at the witch in front of it. Before Hermione even had time to react, the little pixie flew over and began violently tugging at her hair.

The stinging pain in her scalp led Hermione to momentarily forgetting her footing while she tried to swat the little nuisance away. She had only a moment to recognize her mistake before her balance left her entirely and she began to fall away from the stool.

In an act of panic she attempted to grab hold f the edge of the shelf for support. But she only managed to knock into the already precarious bottles of love potion, sending a few tumbling after her.

For a moment Hermione seemed to be suspended in thin air as she felt her feet slide away from the smooth surface of the wood. She watched as the little pixie emerged from its domain a second time just long enough to angrily toss a small box in her direction and flitting its wings in distaste.

* * *

><p>Well I hope it's not too much of a dissapointment. For some reason I had a really difficult time getting this chapter airborn for a while. But like I said, I think I've figured it out and I have a definate plan for the next chapter, possibly two if it ends up stretching out longer (altough, I may just make a great-big chapter as an apology for my lengthy absence, what do you think?). Anyway, thanks again to all of your out there who've stuck with me for so long. And thanks also to any of you out there who may be just finding this fic for the first time, welcome and I hope you enjoy it.<p>

I promise I'll be back as soon as I can. Until then, cheers everyone, and happy reading.

Peace&Loe


	6. Chapter 6

Well, here it is. I've been working all spring break on it and I hope it turned out okay. You all can thank dragongirl2101 for the extra long chapter, as she requested that I put all of what I was thinking into one chapter instead of two. And I have to say that I'm glad that I did, I think it flows much better when it's all together.

I want to thank all of you who have been reading and reviewing this fic, and I hope that I've been doing a good enough job to keep you all moderatly entertained. Also, if any of you are interested, I'm thinking of writing a Dramione after I've finished with this fic. I've been reading a lot of them lately and I think it would be fun to do. So keep an eye out if you think you might be interested.

Thanks again for reading and, as always, reviews are greatly appreciated if you can spare a moment.

* * *

><p>When Hermione opened her eyes she was startled to find that she was lying on a plush four-poster bed with scarlet curtains enclosing her at all angles. She also noted happily that her head and body were surprisingly free of any of the aches and pains she had been expecting.<p>

The twins must have heard the commotion of her fall and had come out to discover she had knocked herself unconscious. Now, more than likely, she was resting in one of their beds in their flat above the shop. Hermione had to quickly fight off the heat racing to her cheeks at the thought of perhaps being nestled in Fred's bed.

But something was not right. Hermione had come to recognize the twins by their distinct scent of wood smoke and cinnamon. But there wasn't a trace of the spicy smell anywhere. If she wasn't in the flat, where was she? The bed was far too lavish for the Burrow and Harry had yet to furnish most of Grimmauld Place. But there was something about the surroundings that Hermione found oddly familiar, but she could not place it.

Reaching out a hand, Hermione found the edge of one of the curtains and carefully drew it back. What she saw behind it nearly caused her heart to stop. She was back in the girl's dormitory in Gryffindor tower at Hogwarts.

How was such a thing possible? There was no logical explanation as to why she would be back at the castle. She had taken a tumble at the twins' shop. If she should be waking up anywhere it should be St. Mungo's. What in Merlin's name was going on?

Throwing the curtain back the rest of the way, Hermione quickly withdrew herself from the now all-too-familiar duvet, and examined her surroundings. They too, were eerily precise.

There, scattered around the bed immediately to the left of Hermione's were Lavender's assorted copies of _Witch Weekly_, the faces of attractive witches and wizards flashing their brilliant smiles from the pages.

Hanging on the wall beside the next bed was Parvati's poster of the lead singer of the Weird Sisters, Myron Wagtail, who blew kisses and winked whenever he was admired.

But what Hermione saw next almost sent her tumbling backward for a second time. For there, hanging just as she remembered them, were the periwinkle-blue dress robes she had worn the night of the Yule Ball her fourth year. Hermione was speechless, it couldn't be.

As a matter of fact, the more she looked, the more she recognized of that night over five years ago.

Her robes and shoes were just where she remembered laying them out that evening. A bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion sat empty on her bedside table. There was even her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade Four_ sitting neatly atop the trunk at the foot of her bed.

"I must be mad." Hermione whispered aloud. She could feel her hands quivering slightly, and a tight sensation was beginning to rise in her chest.

Suddenly there was a swift knock at the door and a familiar voice called out from behind the wood.

"Hermione! Are you nearly ready? The rest of the school must be down in the Hall by now, and Nevil's waiting for me outside the portrait hole. Honestly, I'm sure he'll think you look beautiful."

Ginny. At least she was here. But Hermione could tell it was not the same Ginny she had seen at the Burrow just yesterday. Her voice was slightly higher and was infused with a touch of adolescence. It was the voice of the thirteen year old Ginny.

Another loud rap at the door brought Hermione back to the matter at hand. If this was some sort of dream, she may as well play it out right. After all, the evening she had spent with Viktor had been charming enough, despite his inability to pronounce her name. Why not try to enjoy whatever madness had sent her back to this night?

As she slipped the familiar robes over her now fourteen year old body, she called out to Ginny, urging her to go on without her.

"Alright, but don't be long. As it is, your date's already starting to doze off in front of the fire." And with that, Ginny's footsteps disappeared down the staircase.

What is she on about? Surely she wasn't referring to the fire in the common room. Viktor had stayed in the dungeons with the Slytherins and the rest of the Durmstrang students. As far as she knew, he hadn't even been aware of where the entrance to Gryffindor tower was. They'd converged outside the Great Hall with the rest of the students before going in for the champions' dance.

All things considered, having Viktor waiting in the Gryffindor common room made about as much sense as the rest of this rubbish, it was probably no use fretting over.

Hermione was quick to finish dressing, getting only slightly distracted when she caught a glimpse of her reflection. She was indeed only fourteen, and virtually identical to the memory she had of herself from this night. But despite being eerily realistic, this dream was seemingly pleasant. Hermione was enjoying the atmosphere of the school before Voldemort had risen to power. It felt delightfully innocent and peaceful, just as childhoods should.

After finding her wand on the dresser where she'd always kept it, Hermione left the dormitory and began to descend the staircase.

As she reached the common room she found it nearly empty. A few first years were watching a little toy seeker fly around on a plastic broom and chasing after a miniature snitch, much like the figure of Viktor Ron had purchased from the World Cup. There was also a third year asleep at one of the tables, snoring rather loudly and drooling on a roll of parchment.

But then Hermione saw a hand resting on the arm of one of the armchairs in front of the fire. The person was sitting with their back turned to her and the glow from the dying flames was too low for her to be able to see them as much more than a shadow.

However, they must have heard the noise of her footsteps coming down the stairs, for the person quickly lifted themselves and turned to face her. And for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, Hermione felt as though she would plummet to the ground, for it was most certainly not Viktor who stood in front of her.

It was Fred.

He had been returned to his sixteen year old body, his hair noticeably longer and his features slightly less filled, but still undeniably himself. He looked incredibly handsome standing there, the dull firelight illuminating him from behind, to where it looked as though it was he himself that was glowing. His robes looked slightly worn but were not as blatantly second-hand as Ron's had been. And the beaming smile he wore seemed more than enough to compensate.

Hermione was frozen to the spot. Her heart suddenly felt ten times heavier in her chest and she was finding it slightly difficult to breathe. All previous thoughts of seeing Viktor and enjoying a lovely evening of mild conversation vanished from her mind. It wasn't Viktor. Perhaps it had never been Viktor. Perhaps it had always been Fred.

She felt her shock begin to melt away and become replaced with a girlish nervousness as she took a few tentative steps toward him. But his warm smile grew as she approached and suddenly Hermione felt more comfortable than she had in days. It was like the sensation of coming home after a long absence.

"Hermione," Fed said, looking solidly into her eyes. "You look so beautiful."

Warmth exploded on Hermione's cheeks and she quickly ducked her head to hide the color behind her hair. But a soft chuckle told her that it had been in vain.

Fred's hand found its way beneath her chin and lifted her head so that she was once again looking him in the eye.

"Don't be embarrassed to hear the truth, love." Fred pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Now let's go, time to show all those other blokes what they're missing." He said with a wink, and taking Hermione by the hand, he led her across the room and out of the portrait hole.

Before Hermione knew it, she and Fred were standing together in front of the doors of the decorated Great Hall. It was all just as breath taking as she remembered. But at that moment Hermione only had eyes for the wizard beside her.

It was as if here, in this dream, Hermione lost all sense of her inhibitions. The voice of her brain was entirely drowned out by the voice in her heart. And her heart was telling her that when it came to Fred, logic was irrelevant. He made her feel safe, he made her feel unique and beautiful, and that's all that could possibly matter.

Had these feelings always existed? Had they simply been eclipsed by the panic and confusion she had been experiencing while working at the shop? Or was this all just an elaborate trick of the mind?

At that moment, the sensation of Fred tightening his hold on her arm shook her mind out of its daze. Viktor Krum was swiftly approaching the pair from across the room, a pretty little Beauxbatons girl hanging from his arm.

"You look beautiful Hermy-own-ninny." Krum said, seemingly oblivious to the presence of his own date.

"Yes she does." Fred said curtly before Hermione could respond. There was a small note of challenge in his voice, and he was quick to pull Hermione closer to himself and wrap an arm around her waist.

Krum briefly eyed Fred's arm with a look of disgust and opened his mouth as if to make a retort. But he seemed to think better of it as his lips once again closed, forming a tight, thin line. Before the Bulgarian could change his mind, Fred had swept Hermione away and into the Great Hall.

"Greatest seeker in the world," Fred scoffed. Hermione looked up to see his face creased in obvious irritation. "A bloody tosser if I've ever seen one,"

Hermione couldn't help but smile. Fred was actually jealous, jealous because another wizard had seemed interested in _her_. It was almost too much. Never in her wildest dreams would she imagine him being so protective and territorial over her. She was the bushy-haired know-it-all who always ruined his fun. Now, all of a sudden, she had become something that he felt the need to enforce claim over.

The presence of his hand still secured tightly to her waist sent butterflies racing through her stomach. It had always been so difficult to discern her feelings; they often frightened her and left her feeling dizzy. But here—wherever "here" really was—Hermione could feel the pounding in her chest and embrace it like an old friend.

But what did it mean? Such emotions were not new to her, but they were certainly raw and unexplored. Hermione had never been in love before, infatuated yes, but never truly in love. Was this what the beginnings of love were meant to feel like?

The sudden chorus of music left the question hanging unanswered in her mind. Instead she turned her attention to the champions leading the procession by taking their places on the dance floor. Hermione watched with sniffled amusement as Harry began to clumsily lead Parvati around the floor, looking worse than he had before facing the Hungarian Horntail.

Hermione felt herself stiffen when Krum led the Beauxbatons girl close to where she and Fred were standing. But her nerves quickly quieted when she felt Fred pull her slightly closer.

After the first song ended and another tune was struck up in its place other couples began finding their way out onto the floor.

Fred gave a little cough and Hermione looked up and saw him smiling back at her. It wasn't one of his usual cheeky smiles that he so often threw about. This was the kind of smile that he rarely let show. Hermione had only seen it a handful of times herself, the last being when news had come that George would make a full recovery after having his ear cursed off. But this time, the smile was all for her, and she couldn't help but feel honored.

Fred retracted the arm wrapped around her waist and instead held his hand out to her. For a moment, his smile seemed to waver and his eyes flashed with nervousness. He didn't look like the typical Fred his reputation painted him to be. He was not a cocky and confidant Weasley twin. No, tonight he was Fred, just Fred. He was a vulnerable and insecure boy of sixteen, his cheeks dusted with just enough color for Hermione to see. It was enough to melt your heart.

"Hermione" Fred's voice cracked only slightly as he whispered her name, "Would you dance with me?"

It was Hermione's turn to blush as she took his hand, not trusting herself to speak. But that was the only answer Fred needed. He softly entwined her hand with his own and led her out to the dance floor, his smile graciously returning to his handsome face.

Once the pair had made their way to the middle of the floor Fred stopped, but continued to pull Hermione by the hand until her body was flush against his. Hermione brought her hand up to rest lightly on his shoulder and she felt as he once again encircled her waist. They stood together nervously for a brief moment before beginning to spin and sway in time with the music. The tune began slowly but picked up speed over time. The twirling mass of dress robes within the Hall soon became hypnotic.

Hermione laughed as Fred spun and dipped her with dramatic gusto, even managing to wiggle his eyebrows and shoot her a wink occasionally. He was once again the playful, unquenchable spirit that she had always known him to be.

It was that that spirit that had made Fred so fascinating to her all these years. While she lived in a world of unwavering facts and logistics, he surrendered to an insatiable life of freedom. The only limits that existed in his world were those in his mind, and even those were hardly ever considered without an air of myth to accompany them.

In short, they couldn't have been more different from each other. But this also meant that they always found something to learn from the other. It was like opening gifts on Christmas morning, there was always a surprise to be had.

Hermione and Fred continued to dance for the duration of several more songs, all of which were upbeat and lively and left them both red-faced and sweating. After a time however, Fred insisted that Hermione take a rest while he went to fetch drinks. She obliged and sat herself down at an empty table. Fred kissed her hand and bowed extravagantly before disappearing into the crowd.

As she watched him go, Hermione couldn't help but release a light wave of giggles. She felt as though she truly were fourteen again. But this time around felt even better. There were none of the interruptions of adult life to distract her judgment. Her mind and body were clear of the scars left by the war. And there were not even the normal thoughts of homework or exams clouding her thoughts this evening. It truly was a dream.

"Hermy-own-ninny,"

Hermione jumped at the sudden intrusion of her thoughts.

"Oh, hello Viktor" She said, looking up into the Bulgarian's burly face.

His dark eyes were set unwaveringly upon her, causing Hermione to shift uncomfortably in her seat. She was suddenly very aware that she was sitting unaccompanied at a small table that sat isolated toward the back of the Hall. And Viktor was standing tall and still as a statue between her and the crowd, effectively blocking her from view.

Hermione attempted to keep her nerves from showing through. The Viktor she had become acquainted with in fourth year was kind and gentle, a bit awkward really. But this man towering over her now was not the Viktor she remembered. His eyes were cold and flickered with a hint of what Hermione could only suppose to be hostility.

"H-How are you?" She cleared her throat, trying to mask the apprehensive stutter in her speech.

"Entirely unsatisfied actually," He replied without hesitation. "I have found that I am not accustomed vith losing."

Hermione felt her temper flare. Standing up swiftly, she focused her eyes onto Krum's with a glare.

"I'll have you know, I am not something so trivial that can simply be won." She said hotly. "Now, if you'll excuse me," Hermione broke her glare and moved to step around Krum.

However, his seeker's speed was too fast for her and he captured her arm in a grip that held enough force to make her wince.

"I do not lose, one vay or another I alvays get vhat I vant." Krum roughly yanked her back, causing Hermione to stumble before colliding with his chest. She struggled against his hold, fighting with all her might to break free. But it was not enough. She could not reach her wand, without which she had no hope of besting his strength.

"Let go of me!" She cried out, not even bothering to keep the fear from leaking into her voice. But Krum only increased his hold on her, locking his arms around her body and holding her tightly against him.

Hermione had just reopened her mouth, this time with the intent of letting out a shriek, when she felt Krum forfeit his hold and fall away from her.

Stunned, Hermione stood speechless for a moment as she watched Krum writhe in pain on the floor, both hands clutching his now bloody nose.

There was a small grunt of pain behind her and Hermione turned to see Fred nursing his knuckles. The relief Hermione felt was irrepressible and she immediately launched herself into his arms, circling her hands around his neck and holding him in a secure embrace.

Fred returned the gesture for only a moment before pulling back, looking at her with a serious expression.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked.

Hermione shook her head.

"Good," He said. He brought his hand up to her cheek and wiped away a few tears that Hermione was not aware she had shed. He bent his head and lightly kissed away the last tear before he started to usher her away from Krum.

"Come on," He said. "You look like you could use some fresh air."

She nodded and Fred took her hand and began to lead her out of the Hall. Hermione glanced back and saw Krum was still clutching at his nose, which she could now see was unmistakably broken. But the scene was quickly swallowed up as she and Fred maneuvered their way through the crowd and toward the exit.

But even after they had passed through the doors Fred walked on. He continued to lead Hermione until they were out of the castle entirely. They then found themselves walking the path that led to the Black Lake, Fred no longer guiding Hermione, but instead walking leisurely beside her.

They walked together in silence until they reached the water's edge. The cold air blowing around them was flecked with snow, its frigidity doing well to clear Hermione's head of any feelings of fear that still lingered. She took a few deep breaths and did her best to swallow the lump that had collected in her throat before she looked up at Fred. But she was surprised to discover that he was already looking at her, his face full of concern.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked softly, almost as if he did not want to startle her.

"Yes, I'll be fine." She said with a little nod for emphasis.

"You're positive, because I'd be more than happy to go back and hex his arse back to Bulgaria if you want? I thought it only sporty that I didn't do it when the great oaf wasn't looking."

Hermione laughed for a moment before smiling up at him.

"Thank you, Fred." She said.

As a reply, Hermione was once again graced with one of Fred's indisputable smiles. She felt her heart give a little flutter as he pulled her in and embraced her yet again. All traces of the panic caused by Krum's actions melted away as Hermione felt herself mold comfortably against Fred.

She felt as Fred's arm flinched and heard as he gave another small grunt of discomfort Hermione felt guilt begin to surge through her veins as she remembered the sight of his battered knuckles.

Moving away from him, Hermione gingerly took Fred's hand in both of hers. The hand was swollen and had turned a rather vibrant shade of purple, but it did not appear to be broken. Relieved, Hermione pulled out her wand and began reciting a few basic healing charms to minimize the swelling and protect against infection.

Without taking her eyes off her work Hermione said, "Perhaps you should have just cursed him, would have been a lot less trouble for you, anyway."

Fred shrugged. "Was the first thing I thought of, to be honest. And besides, it was more fun this way." He chuckled. "Now I get the pleasure of telling his lot that their precious Viktor Krum went down after one hit."

Hermione laughed with him as she finished the last of her charms with one last flourish of her wand. From its tip a stream of bandages appeared before wrapping themselves neatly around Fred's hand.

Once the dressings had properly secured themselves, Fred raised his hand and examined her work with a look of approval.

"Merlin's beard Hermione, you could teach Madam Pomfrey a thing or two, you're a bloody wonder."

Hermione smiled and mumbled a quick 'thank you' before tucking her wand back into her robes.

A particularly cold gust of wind reminded Hermione that she didn't have a cloak to shield her from the chilly December air. The problem was quickly remedied however, when Fred slid off the outermost layer of his own robes and draped it across Hermione's shoulders.

In her mind, Hermione was finding it impossible to recall another time in which she felt this happy. She thought of her first day at Hogwarts, receiving her prefect's badge, and of course, the end of the war, but they had not created the same type of happiness. What she was feeling now and what she had felt then were completely different.

Fred gave her what no other part of her life had been able to accomplish. For the first time, her heart felt full.

"Thank you Fred." Hermione said earnestly, attempting to convey as much of what she was feeling as she could.

But Fred didn't understand. "It's no big deal, I'm not that cold so-"

"No," Hermione interrupted him. "That's not what I meant, although it was very kind of you. No, I wanted to thank you for asking me to go to the Ball with you."

Fred looked gave a little snort and looked at her with surprise. "Really? I figured I'd have some apologizing to do at this point."

Hermione shook her head. "It's been wonderful Fred, really."

Fred smiled before moving to stand behind her and wrap his arms lovingly around her. With his mouth just a ghost away from her ear he whispered, "Then you've made me the happiest bloke at Hogwarts."

The two stood together in comfortable silence as they looked out over the silvery surface of the Black Lake. Fred's head was now resting on Hermione's shoulder, allowing her to smell his distinct scent of cinnamon and wood smoke.

"Fred?" Hermione asked, a thought suddenly coming to mind.

"Hmm?" He answered back, taking the opportunity to nuzzle his head into the crook of her neck.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, love."

"Why did you ask me to come to the Ball with you?" Hermione said with hesitation. She was not sure she really wanted to hear the response. What with the whole world going topsy-turvy, she was wary of what he might confess his reasoning to be.

Fred was silent for a moment, considering his answer carefully. "I don't know." He said finally.

Hermione turned her head so she could look at him properly. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he continued to consult his thoughts.

"I don't know." He said again, more to himself than Hermione. "You were the only one I even thought about asking."

"What about Angelina?" If Hermione remembered correctly, the pair had happily attended the first Ball together.

Fred's face creased in confusion. "Who?" He asked.

Hermione tried to shoot him a look, but failed as the corners of her lips began to tilt upward. Then the laugh that she so adamantly fought to suppress escaped instead from Fred's lips.

"I'm serious." She said, pulling away from him slightly, his head no longer resting on her shoulder but his arms still wrapped around her middle.

"So am I." He said. "Angelina hadn't even crossed my mind until now. I was more concerned with asking you before Dumb Krum taught himself to speak."

She gave his arm a playful swat but accepted his answer nonetheless. Before she could pull her hand away, however, Fred snatched it and held in with his own. Gently raising Hermione's hand to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss to its skin.

Raising her eyes from their stunned fixation on his lips, Hermione saw that Fred was looking at her in a way that she had never seen before. The youthful air of insecurity had returned once again, but this time it had company. In his eyes, Hermione could see a longing that was most certainly foreign to his features. It was as if, while he was looking at her he could see all the way through her.

The sensation was incredibly unnerving and Hermione had to turn her gaze back out to the silvery surface of the lake in order to think clearly.

But Fred wasn't having it. With just the ghost of a touch, he cupped her chin and turned it so she was once more facing him. His hand than traveled up to caress her cheek, his fingers sending chills up and down Hermione's spine.

Without realizing it, Hermione leaned into Fred's touch. Her eyes began to flutter as the sensation rushed through her body. Waves of warmth and contentment pushed away any feelings of cold brought on by the presence of the bitter winter's air. Fred's hand continued to pull her head closer to his own, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw. It was all Hermione could do to stay upright. Her legs felt numb and unsteady beneath her, quivering as if they might give way at any moment.

When his lips finally connected with hers it was as if the whole world evaporated, leaving just the two of them together in their embrace. Hermione could see stars behind her now closed eyes. Her entire body was tingling and beginning to sway against Fred's kiss. But Fred encircled her body with his free hand, effectively steadying her.

With the fear of falling now gone from her mind, Hermione let go of all her other senses and surrendered to the kiss. She hadn't even realized she was moving until her arms wrapped themselves around Fred's neck and began to deepen the kiss.

It was pure and utter bliss. Hermione was now absolutely certain that she had never been happier before in her life. There was nothing that could compare to being in Fred's arms, with the sweet taste of his lips to sedate her.

But all at once, the feeling began to change. It was as if a veil were suddenly thrown over her, effectively separating her from Fred. Their kiss had not broken, but something was stifling its true veracity.

Hermione's eyes shot open to see that it was not merely her feelings that had been affected. The entire landscape was cloudy and becoming increasingly more difficult to see. The darkness of the night had been reduced to an iridescent grey; the Black Lake was now nothing more than a dark, undulating mass.

Panicked, Hermione looked to Fred for some kind of explanation, only to find that she was looking directly _through_ him. The beautiful smile had not left his lips, and his eyes were still half closed following their kiss. But he was now almost completely translucent. Hermione could see the distorted remnants of the moon shining through his head.

"Fred, what's happening?" Hermione asked, frantically trying to grasp him. But her hands only passed through him like a mist.

Fred only continued to smile at her, his arms extended out as if he were just waiting for her to return to his embrace. And Hermione tried with all her might to do so, only managing to pass through him.

Tears were now streaming down her cheeks as fear began to take over. Would she ever be able to touch him again? What sort of cruel, dark magic was keeping her from being with Fred so soon after she'd felt what it was like to have him?

The world continued to dissipate all around her, taking Fred along with it, until Hermione was left alone with only nothingness. There was no left or right, up or down, only emptiness.

"Fred!" Hermione called out desperately. "Fred, where are you?"

There was no response. Not even the reverberation of her own voice to comfort her.

And then, Hermione's vision began to go dark. She did not attempt to stop it, no longer caring what happened to her, so long as she could escape from this nightmare. It was odd, for it was not so long ago that Hermione had been experiencing the night of her dreams, with the man of her dreams. How quickly it had all been taken away from her. It was with this thought in her head that Hermione let the darkness take her completely.

Then, once again, Hermione began to fall.

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><p>Thank you all so much for reading. I really hope that this chapter turned out well. I got the idea a couple of chapters back and I've been excited to write it for a while. If you have a chance, please let me know what you think. You are all so wonderful and I would absolutely love to hear from you.<p>

I'll try very hard to keep the updates coming when I'm back in shool. I expect that my classes will be quite as difficult as last quarter but it's hard to tell with college sometimes. But I'll do my best.

Thanks again everyone, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I look forward to next time, until then.

Peace&Love


	7. Chapter 7

Hi everyone, I'm really sorry that this took so long. My last quarter of college classes was just killer, and as soon as that ended I had to start work on my senior project for high school. I'm trying to write a full lenght novel over the summer...we'll see how that works out, eh? But still, that's not an excuse for leaving this story hanging for so long, and I apologise infinitly for that. But I'd like to thank all of you who have stuck with me, as well as those of you who left reviews that encouraged me to update. It's really thanks to all of you that I'm still going. So thank you all so very much from the bottom of my heart. It means the world to me, really.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. And just so you all know, this is NOT the last chapter. The end may seem a little final, but I promise that there is in fact more. I just ended it where I did for the sake of orginization.

Let me know what you all think.

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><p>All at once Hermione came crashing back into consciousness. Her eyes tore open and her body shot up into a sitting position. For a moment, all she could see were colorful, shapeless masses surrounding her on all sides. But after blinking a few times the shapes began to come into focus.<p>

She was once again in Fred and George's production office at the shop. Although this time she was laying on a worn, squishy sofa that she did not recognize.

"So it really was just a dream." Hermione thought aloud before quickly reprimanding herself. Of course it wasn't real; she had known that all along. But it still didn't help the fact that she felt her heart sink at being torn away from such a wonderful fantasy.

The memory of it all slowly began to sink into Hermione's mind, seeing Fred standing in the common room in his dress robes, watching as he defended her from Krum, and finally…the kiss.

Raising a hand, Hermione let her fingers ghost over her lips. It had felt so real, it had felt so right. Being in Fred's arms had been like nothing else in the world could possibly matter. There hadn't been anyone in the world besides the two of them.

Suddenly the door from the backroom sprung open. Startled, Hermione quickly dropped her hand from her mouth and began searching for her wand.

She looked up to see George smiling kindly down at her.

"Well then, back from the dead now, are we?" He said cheekily, taking a few steps closer to the sofa.

Hermione smiled. Despite the nature of her dream it was nice to once again know she was back in reality.

"Most of me, anyway," She replied. "I think I may still be shy a few mental skills."

Hermione leaned forward and peered at George intently.

"Has your hair always been fuchsia?"

George gave a loud snort before crossing the remainder of the room and tousling Hermione's hair.

"Don't go making jokes like that 'round Fred, now. Took me long enough to convince him you were just dreaming."

Not bothering to fix her now ruffled hair, Hermione look at George with question.

"How did you know I was dreaming?" For one brief, terrifying moment Hermione feared that she had spoken aloud in her sleep. Thankfully, however, George proved her wrong.

"We heard you fall in the storeroom and when we found you, you were unconscious and covered in smashed love potion bottles and a Patented Daydream Charm. We didn't have to think too long on that one."

So that was all it had been, a romantically charged daydream that had been entirely manufactured by the twins' products. Although it had been an impressive bit of magic, Hermione couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

"So," George said slyly, kneeling down beside the sofa. "Care to elaborate on the effects of your little tumble? Anyone in particular have a starring role?"

Hermione stiffened as the feel of Fred's lips on hers came rushing back with vivid detail.

"N-n-no!" Her attempt at sounding surprised and offended spiraled away.

George gave a hearty laugh, obviously enjoying watching her squirm.

But his laugh must have carried out into the rest of the shop, because within a few moments the door had banged open yet again, this time revealing Fred standing in its frame. His face was slightly flushed and his breathing was heavy. His whole body was tense and there was worry in his face. When his eyes landed on Hermione however, he breathed a large sigh of relief and his body visibly relaxed.

"Thank Merlin!" He said, hurrying across the room and kneeling down to Hermione's eye level—forcing George to stand once again.

"I'm sorry Mione. I should have gone with you to look for the charms, it was my fault." Fred took her hand in both of his and held tight.

Hermione was shocked. The last thing she had been expecting from Fred was an apology—and a serious one, at that.

"H-honestly," Hermione cursed herself for stuttering one again. "It was my own fault, really. I was too thick to think of a summoning charm once I'd found it, it serves me right."

Fred reached out and took one of her hands. His face was stern but his eyes were not. They seemed almost wounded, as if they were pleading to her.

But he did not speak. His mouth opened a few times, but he always closed it again without a word. However, a voice did break though the silence; it was not Fred, but George.

"Fred nearly lost it when we found you." He said earnestly from his place by the door. "He wouldn't even let me near you until he thought you were okay."

Hermione's mouth fell open. She looked from George to Fred, whose face was now tilted downward. But he maintained his firm grip on Hermione's hand.

The two barely even heard as George slipped out of the room, muttering something about the shop.

"Fred," Hermione whispered. "Is that true?"

His head only sagged farther forward, a mass of red hair falling over his face and blocking it from view.

The silence was torture. Hermione could hear her heart beating like a drum in her ears. She wasn't sure what she was more afraid of, what his response might be or no response at all. She was no longer uncertain about what she wanted to tell him.

That dream had showed her that there was no place safer for her than in Fred's arms. There was never anything lonelier than being without him. And there was no one else she could imagine spending the rest of her life with.

She was in love with him.

She could feel in her heart that she had loved him for years now, but had simply been too daft to see it. No one was there for her like he was. No one made her laugh like he did.

_"It's Fred. It's always been Fred."_ The thought buzzed around her head like a dozen snitches.

But what if he didn't love her back? She had never felt this strongly about anyone before. Would she ever be able to move on from his rejection?

Her brain told her that the odds were against her, but still she had to know. She couldn't live her life never knowing, that was almost as bad as rejection, especially now when she had seen and felt all that there could be between them.

So, stealing herself, Hermione cupped Fred's cheek with her free hand.

His head snapped up at her touch, his face was flushed and his eyes were full of shock. But Hermione didn't give herself the time to think about what else he might be feeling. She did not want to lose her nerve. So, instead of thinking, she spoke.

"Fred, did you really do those things that George said you did?"

His eyes shut for a moment. He sighed deeply and covered her hand on his cheek with his own.

"I thought I'd lost you." He whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

"I didn't know what would happen." He continued. "The Charm and the potions mixed together and they were dumped all over you, there was no telling what effect it would have. If something had happened…I wanted…I _needed_ to be the one who was with you."

Hermione felt her heart flutter erratically in her chest.

"After I pieced together that you were only asleep I brought you here to wait until the effects wore off."

"How long have I been out?" She asked.

"Not long, the charm only held you under for an extra thirty minutes or so. Round an hour all together, I suppose."

Fred's eyes fluttered open, but still he refused to look at her. Instead, he directed his gaze to the adjacent wall, his eyes nervously scanning every inch of it.

But Hermione wasn't having it. She extracted her hand from Fred's grip and brought it up to his other cheek, her thumb gently stroking the soft skin.

Once again his eyes snapped back to her with surprise. But after a moment, Fred began to relax beneath Hermione's touch and leaned into her hand.

"What happened?" Fred asked quietly.

Embarrassment came rushing through Hermione as she again realized how daft she had been in her retrieval of the Charms.

"I-I lost my balance. Then the pixie flew out from the shelf and I-"

"No." Fred interrupted. "I meant when you were unconscious. What happened when the potions and the Charm combined?"

Hermione had to swallow hard as her throat suddenly wet dry. But she carried on; she was determined to tell Fred how she felt.

"Well, they both worked." She said quietly. "I dreamt."

"Are you okay?" Fred asked. "They weren't nightmares, were they?"

Hermione could have laughed at the irony if her heart wasn't still lodged in her windpipe. Her experience had been as far from a nightmare as possible. So she shook her head at Fred's question.

"No, not at all," She took a moment to clear her throat. "In fact, you would probably do well combining the two officially for a new product."

Fred seemed to catch on to what Hermione really meant about the dream and smiled at her. However, the smile was a far cry from those Hermione had seen him wear in her dream. This smile looked sad and almost forced. It did not suit him at all.

Much to her dismay, Fred pulled away from her and stood from his place beside the sofa.

"So who was the lucky bloke, then? Was he good enough for a couple galleons?"

He was trying to joke with her, but Hermione could see that he was far from his normal, whimsical self. He was now glaring at his desk, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

The sight broke Hermione' heart and swelled it at the same time. She hated to see Fred in pain; he was always so strong and steady. But the fact that he was hurting because he thought she'd dreamt about some handsome stranger made her think back to how the Fred in her dream had been jealous of Viktor. Did this mean that even in the real world he felt strongly enough for her to get jealous?

Hermione decided to find out.

"He was perfect. I never could have imagined a more perfect dream." She said rather cautiously, wanting to gauge his reaction.

His face fell a little more and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Ah, well." He said, trying and failing to keep the spark in his voice. "George will be happy to hear we've got a new product. Why don't you head back to the Burrow and we'll see you at mum's Christmas brunch, yeah?" Fred didn't wait to hear her response before turning and heading for the door.

"Fred wait!" Hermione lunged out to grab his wrist, but he was out of her reach. She toppled off the sofa and into a heap on the floor, her body quivering like jelly and her head spinning.

In an instant, Fred was by her side again. A warm, calloused hand gently pressed against her throbbing temple, steadying it slightly.

"Blimey Hermione, you're worse than Ron." He said softly. All the hurt in his eyes had been replaced with kindness and concern.

Hermione smiled at him. She was only clumsy when he was around.

She knew that this was going to have to be her moment; it was now or never. She took a deep breath to steady herself before she began to speak.

"Fred I…there is only one person who could have made that dream perfect and…well, I don't want that feeling to go away just because I'm awake."

The concern faded to be replaced yet again with hurt. Clearly Hermione was going to have to do better than that.

"If you wait until after the holidays Mione, I'm sure George and I can come up with a new batch. It shouldn't be too hard to-"

Hermione didn't let him finish. She rose from her place on the floor, onto her knees so that she was at eye level with Fred. She took his face in her hands and brought their lips together for the first time.

Fireworks erupted behind Hermione's closed eyelids and her heart pounded in her chest so hard she thought it might burst. It was euphoric to smell his smoky scent and taste the sweetness of his lips, and this time, know that it was real.

But all too soon she began to feel Fred pull away, and dread began to flood through her veins. Had she misjudged his feelings? Did he think she was a fool that he regretted ever meeting?

Her eyes remained closed for fear of what she might see if she opened them. She wasn't sure she could bear to see the disgust that would surely be visible on Fred's handsome face. Perhaps she could just stay this way for the rest of her life, eyes shut tight, the sensation of Fred's lips on hers preserved forever.

The sudden reprise of pressure on her lips quickly brought Hermione out of her fantasy. Fred was kissing her. _He_ was kissing _her_. He hadn't scorned or run away from her, he was returning her feelings.

Hermione was so shocked she could not respond. She felt Fred smile into the kiss before he pulled away again. She saw that beautiful smile of his that made her whole body quiver. The life was back in his eyes and he looked like her Fred again.

_Her_ Fred, it sounded nice, like those words were always meant to go together.

"You may need to improve that love potion daydream after all." Hermione said, one hand still holding his face while the other draped around his neck.

Fred raised an eyebrow at her but did not speak. Nor did he cease his captivating smile.

Hermione smiled back. "I'm not sure any dream can be better than this."

There was barely time for Fred to give a quick chuckle before Hermione had pulled him back to her and kissed him deeply.

In that moment, time seemed to simultaneously speed up and slow down as the two remained locked in their embrace. The only thing that mattered was that they had each other; one would always keep the other from falling into oblivion.

Hermione's hands found their way up the back of Fred's neck and fisted in his hair. One of his arms encircled her waist while the other was on her back, pulling her close so that their bodies were flush against each other.

All too soon the moment was broken by the loud creak of the old wood door—its usual rhyming verses replaced with loud snores. George poked his head into the room with one hand covering his eyes.

"Oi, does everyone still have their knickers on in here?"

Fred, who had pulled out of the kiss but did not release Hermione, answered his brother.

"You're too late Georgie, we're both starker."

Hermione swatted his arm but laughed in spite of herself.

George made a brief retching sound. "Be that as it may, I suggest we get our arses back to the Burrow in time for breakfast. If I sleep in and Ronniekins knicks all the pudding, it'll be on your heads."

Hermione gave a little start and quickly looked to the watch on her wrist. It was now ten past two o'clock on Christmas morning.

A warm hand reached down and tucked a stray bit of hair behind Hermione's ear, being careful to caress the skin up and down her jaw.

"Happy Christmas, love," Fred said in a silky whisper.

"Happy Christmas Fred," She whispered back.

They kissed, and Hermione once again relished in the feeling of being in Fred's arms. They fit together as perfectly as anyone could imagine. Hermione had found her other half, the half she hadn't even realized she was missing until she found it. But now, she couldn't bear the thought of ever being without it again.

This was already a Christmas that Hermione knew she would remember for the rest of her life.

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><p>Thank you so much for reading, and just in case you missed it up above, I repeat: this is NOT the end of the story. I still have one or two more chapters that I want to incorporate.<p>

Thank you all again for those of you who've stayed with me, and those of you just reading for the first time. I know I'm terrible at updating, but it means the world to me that you would all still read my work anyway. You are all beautiful readers and I'm honored to have you here.

Until next time then, my friends.

Peace&Love


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